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WHITE WATER nature poem in Genghis Lotus Poetry Collection, a selection of poems free to read online. The Genghis Lotus poems are hosted at two locations, genghislotus.com and zenvirus.com/genghis-lotus/. Webmaster for both sites is poet Hugh Cook, born in Britain, educated in New Zealand, and the author of, amongst other works, the fantasy series Chronicles of an Age of Darkness.
A note on spelling: this poem conforms to New Zealand spelling, hence "sulphur" rather than American "sulfur." "Sandflies" are small black biting insects which are often found in New Zealand forests, particularly near rivers and lakes, though this datum is regarded as a national secret, something we certainly don't tell tourists about. (Similarly, Australians don't boast about the fact that most of their beaches have flies, often many of them.) The "canoes" in the poem are actually Inuit-style kayaks, craft in which you sit rather than kneel, powering the vessel with a double-bladed paddle. |
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All night I have slept by white water, By the rapids all night I have slept, The dew of the night settling above my face, Just above, The cold of the night a skin away from my skin. All night I have slept, and the sky that wakes me Is deluded by fog. Barefoot in mist and in mystery, I pad past the frozen engines, Past the tents asleep in fog, Past blurred sleepers in the fog of sleep. Cold milk tumbles down my throat, And white bread yields to saliva. The hydro-station upstream Makes this river tidal: Algae and rock-pool, pebble and sand. At first light, near neap load, A hot pool bubbles on the other side; The river steams, steam into fog, Fog into steam. Later, as energy churns energy, The water rushes green, Green, A dark-green, a green-blue, Emerald and sea-shine Drenched against rocks, Dredging the bottom with an undertow. Mastering the muscle of the water, Canoes dare and venture, eddy and whirlpool, Buffeting by the big rock That carves the rapids into pieces. Paddle and spray-skirt, Equipped but in ignorance, I roll turtle-over to a face full of water. Warm water in the lap of the earth Comforts my gooseflesh, Tainting the air with sulphur. The sun is a silent dynamo, Urging timber from earth. Timber on timber, the forest Urges the sun. A butterfly sifts the air Above onrush and onslaught. Sandflies fall to limbo, Black and bloody on my legs; Wild blackberry breaks to blood in my mouth, And I hope that no herbicide feeds me. |
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May be photocopied for classroom use |
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