Winter has grown on us – the cool breeze
no longer shocks and the birds carry on
with their sunshine-fed song. Around
their eyes are thin yellow orbs that seem there
to contain, hold that avian pupil in place.
It's all a question of relativity, you say –
the years felt so long as a child.
But back then, a year was a quarter
of your entire life. Now it's a mere tilt
of the head – something that's a little bit more
than nothing, a frame growing smaller
as the days pull at the skin around your eyes.
And yet the point remains the same:
what will be will never be contained.
from As the Verb Tenses
(Otago University Press)
Lynley Edmeades had her first collection As the Verb Tenses published by Otago University Press in 2016. Her poetry has been published in NZ, Australia, the UK and the USA. In 2011 she completed an MA at the Seamus Heaney Centre for Poetry at Queen’s University, Belfast, and she is currently completing a doctoral thesis at the University of Otago, looking at sound in avant-garde poetics. Lynley was one of four New Zealand poets featured in 'Poems in Your Pocket' for National Poetry Day 2016. She lives in Dunedin with her partner and her cat.