Christchurch. Helix. 9th Month.
Passages of labyrinth repeat;
the crypt gives vellum thighs to the dead,
mark our return in this way;
again we hollow dust-caves, ankle-deep.
Paths are furrowed by rats' feet,
scribbled as cryptic schemes, motifs
of death and propagation;
here the fruit of death dilates.
Arid courses interplay, rivers of dust,
graphs wrought in frost, dust-falls interpret sunlight.
A cat plays knucklebones with something grey
and we move into daylight:
for mornings the roads are chrome
and the sun is a citron stain on a limed wall.