Iona Winter

Category: poetry

  • hills

    a forgotten past convenient to bury within fathomless wardrobes   not long ago grandmothers burned alive like torches up there on the hills   ancient anger resurfaces when sisters are treated with a similar cowardice   but my interior is illuminated without the need for a closet

  • quiet

      i am  rinsed clean by the currents deep-blue-green-water-clarity tethered far below like a buoy the weight soon slips quiet from my shoulders i wait back against the clay face outwards to the wind rinsed clean

  • reminder

    i’d forgotten there could be security in a single bed tucked up, flannel sheets, hot-water-bottle-sweaty-warmth seeping through me sometimes we don’t realise how far we’ve come until a friend reminds us that we are safe these days tucked up in a single bed for the night

  • limits

    most days i witness stories of horror from those who survive it i avoid the media because i have limits so when you ask have i heard about such and such and my face resembles a blank page i hope you can realise there are limits to how much i can hear, see or touch in one day

  • te reo māori

    i’m grateful i was taught te reo māori as a kid and had my bum kicked figuratively if i got pronunciation wrong we take our shoes off so we don’t trek any tiko inside ngā whare metaphorically i cringe when people say ‘leave them on’ or utter words badly because that’s how they’ve ‘always’ said them i know the reactions when i do the…

  • pirate

    change greets me with filtered light and different shadows the only constant   i dreamt you whispered about lost loves and pirate-like your gold earring stroked my cheek   change light as gentle rain and seasonal birdsong the only constant

  • years ago

    i remember honeyed breath on my face limbs spread-eagled in bed and your first word ‘star’ laughter when the dog chased water from the hose and your tears when she died that was years ago and my life remains abundant with you in it    

  • as i feel more comfortable  with my own identity it makes space to meet yours   i walk at night alone with the essence of you beside me attuned to silence   as i feel more comfortable  

  • lean

    on the last day she leaned into me   i captured the impact a weightless fall of loosened limbs   and the blessed embrace of words that lay forever unspoken between us  

  • throat

    without sound tight throated last in the line of women no others   i mourn losses you them gaps created like deep chasms   i know a thing or two about sadness