This week I studied beneath
Selwyn Muru's volcanic painting
which divides itself beneath
left-star blue and a blood-let red.
I would read through my notes,
memorise and glance up,
reassured that it was still
there, disturbed only by the people
who moved in and out of the
frame, talking like the stray dogs
which I imagine would walk
across the mountains above my head.
It made me laugh when I was
told that they are nga maunga korero-
the Talking Mountains-influencing
my life from their heights/providing
a touchstone amongst the
small tremors of oratory.