Best New Zealand Poems 2002
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Old Man Range

A minimalist production: nothing but
curve, shadow and sky
interrupted by upstanding rock.

Good perhaps for a storm scene
or wilderness journeys: a line of settlers
backlit, against the horizon
and the usual soaring orchestra –

But so bad are the acoustics
a superannuated cocky might bad-mouth
whatever deities preside in this place
and nobody would take offence –

While the hawk
cutting curves of its own
wouldn’t care for that kind of rhetoric anyway.


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