Milly
Magazine
Crossing the Kaimais
Two poems by Michael Hall
Teeming rain -
The wipers reveal
a few dreaming
Pongas -
And then
the road again
Down far below
somewhere
is the Waikato.
And that
is where I turn
turn, and returning
go.
And eventually
the highway
evens up into
a wet world of paddocks
and a tin barn
in early evening -
of childhood.
But also a love
come too late.
And somewhere
out there
toward Matamata
Morrinsville
a light goes on.
Advice to Daughter Astronauts
Take care with the words
out there. Your lives
are yet to be discovered.
The Earth still turns
the sun will flare, and things
must still hunt and hurt.
On the space station
the liquid air is recycled:
it should be safe there
while just below, our world
twists with hurricanes
and continents burn dirt.
On one of the far moons
of Jupiter you may find snow.
Let it kiss your spacemasks
and remind you of me.
Oh, I wish I could walk and
talk space with you, all
solar day, my daughters.
But that is for you to find out.
I leave only this old coat of words.
Michael Hall lives in Dunedin. Recent poems of his have appeared in The Spinoff and Queens Quarterly (Canada). Two previous poems of his have appeared in Milly Magazine.