Travel Diary

Leaves have been falling into the bathroom sink 
Soundless little parcels. 

Yesterday you were the sun over water 
An orange on a metal countertop. 

Sweating through the day, floating, 
You were waiting for rain to fall 
On the kitchen island I was shining 
Glasses with black paint. 

In the middle of the journey we stopped for water 
Crouching in a hot stream as a way of making it through 

Christmas, thai basil, the searing heat of crab, 
The year tidying itself into a box, brushing sand 
From linen, mind reading, lime dripped on mango, 
Mumbled thanks, morning glory, frightening dusk, 
Estimations of language, walls of geckos. 
Fan me with a banana leaf, doors will open on the right, 
The gap! mind it, shell oil in a palm field, a love letter to plastic… 

Once again at the forefront of our lives 
Little slices of moonlight flash between evenings 

The nights have been bright. 

You're in the second part not the first 

I scoured drooping rain 
From torrid soil — the soot was subsiding 
Quietly walking down steps 

Unbroken sound — the roar 
Water flooding 
The dark hollow 

We shaved and thrashed and stood still 
I abandoned the valley 
Out of the dust 

*

Today you are translating me 
Down delicate dreams of 
Long hair and rocks crashing 
Against warm waves 

Dancing in our arms — the trail 
Gone      …      hot 

Summer coming 
Ice idling off pine needles 
On noiseless honey mornings 
Blue sea breaching 
The words in the water 
The weather report

Theo Castle-McLean (he/him) lives and studies in Te Whanganui-a-tara. He likes bookshelves, gardening, and hay fever pills.