Natural history
By David Howard
when a youth impresses
his friends carry that impression
the way fruit does a bruise
the memory of fruit picking, cuffs
unbuttoned but not rolled up
birds are thirsty for Cox's Orange
swear words stick between the boy's teeth
the serpent hoards casual windfalls
there was never any intention etcetera
the gulf old hands call across
it's the width of the card table
where an apple moulders
morning star to brawling constellations
an orchid burns by the windbreak
sprawled over the tractor's bonnet
a black-eyed dog enters the metaphor
the boy is all fired up, he enjoys
this list which is a poem but also his summer
a plant is an animal
with its feet in the air,
its mouth in the ground
• David Howard is a former pyrotechnics supervisor. He was the inaugural recipient of the New Zealand Society of Authors Mid-Career Writer's Award (2009) for work subsequently collected as The Incomplete Poems (Cold Hub Press, 2011). His poetry has been translated into six languages. He lives in Purakaunui.
