Spirit to Nga Hoe E Wha

Spirit to the Four Winds

    A dead, domestic, ginger cat

lay on Linwood Road a month.

His fur was wet. His mouth had bled.

 

   Car and car and car and car

in funeral procession passed.

Tom was grinning in the grass

 

   as old men smile selflessness

before the nurse has left the room

(nights in Linwood Road are dark!).

 

   A moon turns Thomas milky-white.

A child whimpers for her mate.

Winds wail waiatas…

 

…Morning mists and car and car

hiss their way to work again

past Tom…past hope…past everything!