Mattenz

Ettrick

Ettrick

Fourty
No perhaps fifty
Opaque boxes
Uplit by country street bulbs
And the moon
Dimming in the mist
Waiting for the apples to come
But they didn’t this year
Not even when they were ready to fall
Not enough people to pick them
As the peace song said

Just down the road
Light dim on the speights sign
Jacks still waiting at the pub
Local cop waiting for him on the corner
Of coal creek road
He doesn’t care what happens to him or the ute
Hes waiting
For his mates
Who were not ready to fall
Lying in the weight of fourty
No perhaps fifty
thousand opaque boxes
In flanders fields

Labels: anzac day, central otago, poetry

posted by Mattenz @ 9:53 pm