Chris Parsons is a Christchurch writer whose work has appeared online in Blackmail Press, Snorkel and The Typewriter and in print in JAAM, Poetry NZ, Southerly, Takahe and the Otago Daily Times.
Newton's third law
my bones are still
brittle with English chalk
and my blood strong
with its red clay
my avian frame a
kite restless for pale winds
lifts me away from this new land
but senses and DNA are pushing
downward with bright berries
and strange leaves.
the calls of birds
are in my words
and I'm caught halfway
echoing your golden words
by the fare-welled stones
watching airplanes go
flights of silver Godwits
I am calm somehow content knowing
cords knotted into physics of hollow bones
will slowly wind them back
as northern suns fade
their hearts will fly
towards the Pacific's warmth
