Tuesday, 26 April 2011

The Three Sisters

bird's eye view

In this room, a family
and all that that means, generations
and layers. Outside, a mountain range,
a lake, the stir of air. A habit now
to check out the Three Sisters peak
as seen from the lounge,
sometimes clear, sometimes
scarved in mist; stuck there,
side-by-side, part of the Remarkables
mountain range. Rocks.
I think of my three sisters, and yours.

Inside the house
your mother remembers
a day in 1962 when for pudding
there was rhubarb, junket and cream.
It was the day your father painted
that bird's eye view of the lake
from your grandparent's farm
at Kingston. The painting
you said you'd like to have, to keep it
in the family now that Alan Cooke's
have been seen on Trademe.

The painting that shows the layers
of colours in the wash of the lake
against shingle. Circles of green.
“It worries me when patterns
and rhythms are disrupted,”
your sister said.
She's thinking of earthquakes.
Or the grid.
Today the Three Sisters
stand clear against the sky.
I think of my three sisters, and yours.

Kay McKenzie Cooke


Anonymous said...

I have a sister but not! There is a breach chasm gorge between us with no attempt on either part to build a bridge. The years have passed regret is rarely felt or even sadness. Enjoyed your poem!

Kay Cooke said...

Theanne - I appreciate that sometimes these things happen in families. Thanks for stopping by again and also for commenting on my efforts through April. It's May now so I will probably give the poetry a break ... However I do intend to keep blogging, so don't go away! :)

Clocking Out

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