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Heartwood

Fire never scarfed the tree
this chair remembers
with every curve. Sit
down, you will find

fire. Young, you were
dull with lovers
who wanted to spend
their summers

elsewhere. This chair
supports your humiliation.
Its heartwood is scarred
with your initials, as if

it was your place of
origin. During
new moon, the near side is
dark, the far side in

sunlight: can’t you see?
This is the chair your body grew
into. This is the body
electric.

May 1995, Cathedral Square, Christchurch

 


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