Tuesday Poem: Just to Say by Bryan Walpert

I came to that old poem,

folded in the leaf of a book,

and meant merely to take

a peek, like visiting a home

I’d lived a few years in long ago,

curious what had changed,

but of course it was the same,

and I couldn’t help but linger

in that meadow where we still sat

as lovers. The air rippling through

the grass carried a thought

I could nearly catch,

and still hushed the bees,

busy as always laying gold amid

the buds, while the sun slid,

endlessly of course, behind

cherry trees whose petals

fluttered like a feeling

I’d forgotten, as I’d forgotten

the scent of dusk that settled

along azaleas, the pond,

even the blanket somehow

that you had forever spread

beside the river for us to lie upon,

and it was only the foolishness

that seemed new, the kind

you feel when you find

you’ve come late to the obvious,

that even a first-time reader

should have known how soon

the end was approaching when

the jays, weaving shadow braids

between branches, sealed

the seam of the horizon,

descending to wherever it is

our oldest best selves are stored,

so forgive me if I’ve remained

too long in this poem. I’ll leave

you asleep now by the river,

murmuring the memory of my name. 

My friend Bryan Walpert, will be launching his second collection of poetry, A History of Glass at the fabulous Palmerston North City Library this Wednesday 11 April at  7.00 pm, starting with drinks at 6.30 pm at the Bruce McKenzie bookshop next door. The event is free and open to the public, so do get along and take a friend.  

I am wondering if I can get myself up there - a bit of a road trip - a bit of poetry - wind my way home.... I'll see, I have some projects needing attention this week, ones that actually involve getting paid. Hah! Now there's a thing.  

A History of Glass is beside my bed at the moment - and I dip into it regularly - a poem at a time - having read it through in one reading when it arrived in my letterbox. It is a stunning collection, each poem a complex and tasty treat, and I will review it next week. 

Another poem from Bryan's collection featured on my blog here and Bryan's No Metaphor, from a previous collection, was the first poem on the Tuesday Poem blog, so it's a fine thing to reference it this week when we're in the middle of our second birthday. 

There's a global poem going on at TP to celebrate - so far a dozen poets have posted a line each and there are more than a dozen to go, with the final poem posted next Tuesday. Do have a look! It's fun to see where it goes...  

Tuesday Poem: Translucent

Crossing the Rimutakas, going home,

and the scraped landscape is in the thick

of it – although thick isn’t the word, really

– tender the cloud stroking the cut earth,

tender the light as it feels its way through.

All is gauzy. Filtered. The blue

of the sheep truck we lose on the bends

the only colour. See, Helen, you can

touch clouds. Live in them, even. Tenderly,

we make our way up and over. So

light, so lit, we’re luminous. It’s like flying,

and all we talk about on the way down. 

Mary McCallum

Flax by Mary McCallum

On this, Tuesday Poem's second birthday, here is the final poem in my book The Tenderness of Light which, I am delighted to say, is fast selling out. You can watch me read it in the video at the top of the left sidebar here. It's right at the end...

I like this poem. I wrote it quickly but had been thinking about it for weeks - the best sort, really. They have a lightness of being these heady devil-may-care poems. The others - written slowly after a burst of inspiration - can do your head in. 

The Helen in the poem is mentioned in the first poem in the book, too. She's crazy about clouds, makes them, wants to live in them, and curated the fabulous exhibition Translucent Landscapes of which my poetry was a part. 

What I love in Translucent is the feeling of joy and family and nature and home. 

Now do go to the Tuesday Poem hub to see the excitement of the global birthday poem unfolding over two weeks. The first line is up this morning and others will follow. Very exciting! 


We're two! And it started here! I can't quite believe we've got to this. But we have. I am so grateful to all the Tuesday Poets who join me each week, especially Claire Beynon - artist, writer, angel. 

Finally, Happy Birthday to Melissa Green Tuesday Poet, and to little Carter who is one today and sometimes comes to play.