Auckland Poetry

Wick and Candle

I woke up in a strange room, couldn’t find my way out
collided with a standard lamp, thought it was an intruder
and wrestled it to the ground. Ice on the living room floor
fell many times till a Chinese lady, dressed in a short,
green shirt and blouse, showed me where the loo was.

When I came out I was very tired I’m a fireman, you see,
and there had been a forest fire, laid down on the ground
and could smell freshly dug earth and noticed, before
falling asleep, white coffins being unloaded from a truck.

Awoke it was morning in the mirror I saw a dead man he
had sot in his face a victim of the fire? I tried to get him
out of there but couldn’t break the mirror; and anyway he
disappeared when I got up from the floor.

“Not your fault, he died of a heart attack,” the Chinese lady
said and with that she climbed back into the picture on
the wall. “Your heart is weak” the cardiologist said,
“Walk an hour a day, you have to let go, someone else has
to extinguish the forest fire.”

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