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“CITY UNDER A NOR’ WEST ARCH”¹
BUILDINGS ROLLED AWAY LIKE HILLS,
PYLONS STOOD LIKE LIFELESS TREES,
THE DISTANT ROAR WAS MERELY TRAFFIC.
BILLBOARDS FLASHED LIKE WILDFIRE
AND GREY, STONE WALLS STOOD, AS THE
HIGH BLUFFS DO
AGAINST THE BUFFETING WIND.
CARS TRICKLED DOWN GULLIES CREATED
BY SHADOWED, HIGH RISE WALLS.
CHROME WATER SPARKLED.
MOVING FAST I LOOKED OUT
ACROSS THE BROAD SWEEP OF HILLS.
BUT SAW ONLY A CITY UNDER THE
NOR WEST ARCH.

¹I wrote this on a commuter train as I was on my way into the city to work. I was attempting to compare the city outside the train’s window with the hills of the South Island High Country where I had worked as a shepherd.

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