Two Poems
Waiting for Rescue
all the strokes of the pendulum
skeltered in a heap
caustic waste
in the dark hallway
where the clock
too pregnant to see her feet
couldn’t see
what passed through
her hands
and what lies there
strewn together like jackstraws
stroke
STROKE
stroke
stroke
touch one
tumble them all
don’t breathe I say don’t
wait wait
WADE WADE
through splinters and sticks
dust speckles
float in the sunshine
from the smashed-in front door
kick them up
into the air
while the clock strokes
her belly and her face, her time
is coming
growing
drifting with intent
in a fearful
configuration
Promontory
Tonight we shall scramble
the stars of Oriontread on the butterflies
lining the time trackhoping to echo down
alleys of centuriestrimming our words to the
heights of the hillsHalf-collapsed mountains
diffident canyonshug the red cliffs on the
long road to nowherehalf-recalled starshine
trickles through rockslidesTonight is for scrambling
the stars of Orionthe soft of the spring wind
the fullness of moons
—Mary Cresswell, Paraparaumu, Kapiti, New Zealand