Walking the Heaphy Track
The final poem
eludes intentionality
you start
walking uphill
to a saddle that is named
before it is glimpsed
glimpsed before it constitutes
the realm your body knows
as a wholeness
culture simply glances off.
Somewhere in a dimming retrospect
the swivel chair and incandescent screen recede.
Limbs and trunk are sanctified
& reconfigured in
a novel kind of work
strung out over four days, say,
as a way of moving
through the world over time
taking in this and that
& putting it all together
locating the basics
through a process of elision
before your terminal descent
for the time being