BOLTON STREET CEMETERY

Above the bridge there was a path in and
instant gloom, the tombstones looking recent
as mushrooms under the trees. Back in the
light the motorway was putting on its
grand prix. I felt out of place, neither dead
nor a motorist, in fact disapprove
of motorists almost as much as I
disapprove of death. I stood amidst the
shades and shade watching the rush to vital
destinations. Of course this was the place
they were really going. Spectacularly
oblivious to its fate the traffic chased
itself along with a vividness which
seemed cinematic, indeed heavenly.

MOON (3)

You don't need to be an ardent sports fan
to wonder about the rules pertaining
to the tremendous ball. Heaven's nearest
place is such a familiar enigma,
has been so cogitated upon by
the complete range of humanity's tribes,
that its stony meadows could be granted
honorary earth status or, after
this much eye-colonisation, seized as
non-contiguous territory - a frontier
continent or high Atlantis. Not to
reflect on reflection's supernova,
not make our kind's howl at the night sun, would
be dereliction of intelligence.

MOON (4)

Not being a star hasn't stopped it being the
star, the self-spotlight of the nocturnal
boards. Amidst the heavens' general purdah
it can shine forth so lustrously, can play
so scrumptious a trophy satellite, that
you would reckon it must have had cosmic
surgery. Those locked fires are mere chorus
to its charms, displayed in a strip which, though
a model of deferral, extends to
the sable smalls, even if distance's
veil does conceal the rather alarming
number of orifices. The sun, that
eyesore, old sky-warmer, is no better
chance to stop it being pet of every month.

MT VICTORIA LOOKOUT

A jogger headed straight back down. And a
man and woman seemed less interested
in the view than in framing each other
against it. Without a fitness regime
uppermost in my mind, let alone dear
companion, Wellington's hills-and-harbour
picturesqueness had my attention at
least. I spent some time puzzling over which
hills were Brooklyn. The sea's great level was
its own mystery, devoid enough of boats
to seem under taboo, quite a change from
Sydney on Boxing Day. Action came more
from above the water when a plane flashed
in to land like a meteor burning out.

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