Poetry_Master

Note for My Singing Teacher
for Frances
 
But your funeral filled two church halls.
 
Tom playing for you, still wearing his coat.
the school jazz ensemble playing you out
like you planned.
 
i don’t lament over things.
i’m not worried about the Swedish haircut
or even the incident with the door.
 
Sorry never does any good, sorry,
but I forgot to dance in the aisles
 
better get hit in your soul
when they clap the clap
syncopation with a sax.
I forgot to dance in the aisles
 
so by the church on Church Road
I listened to the clapping
Zita wore chilli lipstick and danced
without thought, without weight.
You could say she danced for all of us.
 

by Amy Barnard
Taradale High School

Brother

A baby’s cries
beating the crack of dawn
Heartbeat
Heartbeat
The yeast of life made an excess
of dough to birth every time
you grin
In dusty days we all hold
the small wonders:
burning flicks upon thrumming ant
traffic steeping in your brain
All the way up to the stars and all
the way down again
Be good
Keep warm
The raveling of a defeated
seamstress as you leave red-cheeked
in your Velcro shoes
The blows of the dandelion clock
getting wonky and avaricious,
spitting pips down your throat
Thereafter: a clamber
To gather
When the night sky is bulky
swelling
I slip a grin
into my pocket
just to hear the thud of
Heartbeat
 

By Chelsea Lund
Te Kura – The Correspondence School