↑ Return to 4th Floor Contents 2012

Mercedes Webb-Pullman

1 | 2

Polar drift

We flew south, as far south as possible
over virgin paper snow, time’s blank
to a region where every point leads north
and peering through obscurity
in that eternity between Oh and Look!
a three-headed dog appeared;
all the snakes of his perfect tail
undulated, synchronised
like filaments of a sea anemone
harvesting food from the ocean
or women’s arms, on the home marae
waving us welcome.

 

 

 

ContentsAbout this Author

Permanent link to this article: http://4thfloorjournal.co.nz/past-issues/4th-floor-2012/contents-2012/mercedes-webb-pullman-polar-drift/