Tuesday Poem: As the Earth Turns

For the victims of the Christchurch Earthquake 22-2-11

Wound so tight, of course it breaks

and in the breaking

the surface dissembles, and the innards –

coiled and clean, hidden, neat –

are wrenched –

exposed to callous air –

Oh, earth!

We cry bitterly into the brokenness

for there is no longer a place

for eyes to rest, no place

to put our feet.

We fall into the brokenness

we straddle the brokenness

we cradle the brokenness

we tip-toe on the brokenness

we weep into the brokenness

and the salt-water – as salt does –

scours or

rusts, depending - we don’t know

(might never know) we who fall,

who straddle, who cradle, who tip-toe,  who weep –

This at least for now: brokenness reminds

of the unbroken, and our hearts, our poor dumb ticking hearts,

are wound up still each night.

Tuesday Poem: Earth

For the people of Canterbury after the September earthquake, 2010

Day 1

it mobs us

leaves us

immobile

we are aghast and naked in the doorway 

clutching each other, where’s the dog? 

we are flying for the children, calling

their names, we are the woman up to her neck 

in it, scrabbling for a handhold, calling --

the child behind her on the path stay there 

the one she’s rushing to collect stay there 

we are the boy running to the grandfather, calling --

we are the family watching the capsizing house 

stay               there

earth in our ears

earth in our eyes

earth in our hair

Day 2

it runs its fingers  

along the fences

and power poles

leaves behind

the sound

anxiety makes

there are

early births

and heart attacks

sleep flies from

windows like

featherless birds

Day 3

the faultline is the

break

in the spine and the

back

and neck

hip

and shoulder bones

adjusting

are the

after

shocks

Day 4

it nudges

like

a dog does

makes

the child vomit

makes

his little brother

shake

and shake and shake

the looters take what they like

the homeless take what they can

the mother says she can’t take anymore

the dairy owner says take what you like pay later

Day 5

it changes

the way we

face the world

that shop we

knew that street

we grew up in

that church

in Little River

we drove past on the way to our holidays

Day 6
the crane             drivers      are having a        field day

   one  saves              a chandelier and        bows      to the applause

one unpicks a      wall brick     by brick      and leaves small

       pyramids ready for       rebuilding    there are too many

toppled chimneys      too many buildings on their     knees

nothing can     be done about         Telegraph Road

Day 7

earth in our hair

earth in our ears

earth in our eyes

we are naked in the doorway

we are shaking like leaves

we are up to our neck in it

scrabbling for a handhold calling -- 

                               

                                        Mary McCallum