Clive Turnbull Poems

What race is this
hard wintering along the spray line
speaking stone?
...

Feel for life
And be perplexed.
Make a start
With a pulse spring step that is uncertain
...

An old man retreads the past,
drags the clubfoot of statemanship
across the terrace top of dreaming.
...

To look down on a field of flax
is sky enough
so what are they all doing
looking up, just looking,
...

First I am alive
graze a stranger's hair
and it strangles me.
...