Poem – Harvey McQueen

A Letter

 

Vanished is the postie’s
whistle; with the anthem at
the movies & a butcher in
every suburb. In today’s
letterbox, left by the bronzed
lady with strong walk shoes
there is a magazine & three
letters, one from you. Time’s
cover is a new youth god who
can pick & choose his scripts.
When our script was edited
I didn’t allow that happy
ending you planned. The great
mess we make of things. But
let me add, the sight of your
handwriting still turns my heart
into a frantic rabbit going every-
where at once. Goethe declared
architecture is frozen music.
So is memory.

 

Harvey McQueen

Tagged with: , ,
Posted in Poem
Search the archive

More results...

Generic selectors
Exact matches only
Search in title
Search in content
Post Type Selectors
Filter by Categories
Architecture
Art
Autobiography
Awards
Biography
Byline
Children
Comment
Contents
ebooks
Economics
Editorial
Education
Essays
Extract
Fiction
Gender
Graphic novel
Health
History
Imprints
Language
Lecture
Letters
Letters
Literature
Māori
Media
Memoir
Music
Natural History
Non-fiction
Obituaries
Opinion
Pacific
Photography
Plays
Poem
Poetry
Politics & Law
Psychology
Religion
Review
Science
Short stories
Sociology
Sport
War
YA Reviewers
Young adults
Recent issues: subscriber-only access

    Subscribe to NZ Books to access the issues above

    Search by category

    See more