The Wind Before The Rains

The wind before the rains
coolly announcing
the passing of sun
anticipation that the still
will be broken
precipitation that thrills
the soul with its cleansing

Rain without the winds
that I remember still
from lives before
and passing time
for dreaming

The White Bridge

We never crossed the white bridge in Taipei

your  yin 

my  yang

we scurried past

ships across a bay

of mild unease and discontent

a bridge too far perhaps?

every advance followed by a retreat

maintaining the balance

avoiding  the meeting of love and laughter


Roger Smith   September 2009

The Last Post

The Jap sniper’s rifle
with shoulder against the post
had the kick of a tethered heifer

We found the ammo under the bed
hidden by your father
a war souvenir they say

When farmers became soldiers
and marched to lands beyond
the red of the dominions

The Taranaki mud
giving way to tropical sludge
or desert sands

They say the bullet travelled some five miles
in a descending line
from the boxthorn hedge in which we had tunneled

cocooned from the world
in our thorny stockade
we waited for re-percussions


Roger Smith  November 2010 

The Xmas Shell

Above the bureau radiant
your orange pink lips
opening to translucent orange
and tales of Kenyan times

when the rule of the Raj
a white flex to the motherland
destroyed your smooth corrugations

In Papua we buried the likes of you
letting the ants devour your innards
disinterring your carcass
to let it shine once more
varnished by the caress of the sea


Roger Smith   August 2009