The Nacreous Oughts

29 March 2004


Fear made the superior sea
The colour of his new car;
From a window in the hillside
He saw the sky bare
All but the handhold of a cloud
On a derelict gate. Ashamed,
He knew the weedy fog showed
His mother's hair uncombed;
And all for that the snaking road
In low gear climbed.
Before night he punished them,
The bright scenes hostile,
By a boy and girl in the young broom.
He told that story well."

Allen Curnow

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