Poem — Dinah Hawken

The Lake

Sometimes the lovely land
comes gently to water

sometimes it falls.

The cliff is thrilling

rising like a regiment
or a choir of angels
out of the lake

but no‑one has power
over water, since water being fluent
eventually
incrementally
unintentionally wins.

Dinah Hawken

Tagged with: ,
Posted in Poem
Search
Subscribe to NZ Books
We're pleased you're using the New Zealand Books archive.

To ensure the survival of this important journal, please consider
subscribing — only $44 a year, or $30 for digital-only.

Go to the Subscribe page.
Search by category

Read more