
Image by Jan Kemp
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Image by Jan Kemp
Aotearoa New Zealand writer, poet and academic Briar Wood is of Te Hikutu ki Hokianga Ngapuhi...
Jackdaws at St Materiana
This is their turf,
wormful of fresh mounded mole holes,
garlanded in wreaths and rare
plants found only in churchyards.
A pack of jesters acting like
a gang of toughs in Elizabethan ruffs -
one sex as plucky as the other.
The church doors are barred
against their entry. Four square
in the wind, a sailor’s landmark.
Madron’s monument.
On fine days they mind their business
hopping nonchalant on the Celtic cross
a memorial for world wars’ dead
or slate gravestones for Tinneys,
Taylors, Wades and Matthews.
Calling from curzyway walls,
curving like surfers on sea air
in high winds they fly to spires to rest
or roost or nest or just for the hell of it
swooping through bell music
land and line up on the church roof
sentries to love’s muddy pathways,
lost hearts, red scarves, sunrise.
Over the years I’ve become increasingly interested in the lyrical nature of poetry. I find that the more I’ve taken in...
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