The Greenstone Mere

Vitrification of ancient woodsmoke words
and the green malice of old wrongs
in the ashes of misery they left behind

Petrification of forgotten tides
that washed over the wrecks of past storms
and the black depths of old motives

Here lies forever embedded the cries
of women rising out of sleep to die
among charred huts and smoking silences

Here the broken body and burning spirit
of revenge—the quivering flesh sinking
into oblivion among the savage clash of tribes

Fossilization of an embryonic land
and the stilling of urgent creation
is captured within your still form

Let us not forget the lament we sang
on the seashell shore for Te Maunu
or the song of the sad sea itself for Te Kiwi.

Frederick C. Parmée