photo : The Grove, scenic reserve, Pohara, young rimu which has undoubtedly inspired a number of legends.
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The tree was drifting/
in the middle of the forest/
It was about/
letting the wind, and time take its course/
So I followed/
its movements/
oh so slow,
in a kind of renunciation/
of heat, and of time/
and of his nonchalant destiny
he comes back
the strange ghost
looking at me
in the miror
I wake up
but it's me
that I have just seen
I knew what strength was
but did not move
I spoke in parables
summoned to answer unanswerable questions
I was already missing the silence of the streets
or meeting my ghosts
in the bright light that sounded
the death knell for the birds dreaming
of being dinosaurs