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