31 August, 2021
Tais Rose Wae is Running Dog’s poet in residence for July and August 2021.
Each month, a poet produces new work, which is distributed via Running Dog’s monthly newsletter—Stray. If you haven’t already, sign up to our newsletter.
• • •
It begins with wattle blossom yellow
in the crimson womb of morning sky,
wrapped in a blanket of smoke
winding off the mountain range,
all uninterrupted honeysuckle banksia nectar
tapped onto an open, patient palm.
The moon appears, unassuming, as if a gift
among clouds hung full of first song clapsticked
and sung across treetop canopy
through rock pool through ocean floor through
pipi shells taking their first breath
and red-bellied deadly slither
while light washes across the earth like water
making way for ceremony, making beauty
in dew and daylight and lack of,
all golden glow of a land to be held
with care, with custodianship
knowing all ways it always was
always will be all ways.