Blue Rain

Blue rain from a clear sky.

Our world a cube of sunlight —

but to the south

the violet admonition

of thunder.


Innocent as flowers

your eyes with their thick lashes

open in green surprise.


What have we to fear?

Frost and a sharp wind

reproach us,

and a tall sky pelts the roof

with blue flowers.


You and I in bed, my love,

heads leaning together,

merry as thieves

eating stolen honey —

what have we to fear

but a borrowed world

collapsing all about us

in blue ruins?


By Alistair Te Ariki Campbell