Poem 416

Being left behind then finding myself next day at the railway station, locus of leave-takings and partings … I’m moved by the middle stanza, the impossibility of being farewelled and welcomed by the same person, the rolled-in-cotton-wool security that would be…

( I like the serrations of light glistening on waves … winding blank through the heads is an audio/video tape metaphor of white noise emptiness plus a reference to the Wellington heads out to Cook Strait and also a sidelong glance at lines from Tennyson’s forsaken In Memoriam ‘on the bald street breaks the blank day’ … as in Poem 413 there’s also a seagull/plane analogy, a satisfyingly filmic cut from screaming morning seagull to screeching nighttime plane half a world away … )

Day After You’ve Gone

A seagull seeks the highest point
of the railway station
and sits and screams
morning is spread out on the water
with a serrated knife

I always wanted you
to be there to see me off
and at the other end
to welcome me too

out on the sea
daylight winds blank through the heads

your plane
drops screeching into night