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Lovely for the long ago
child in the night
to hear the huge rain
beating on iron.
No fibre-glass muffle –
only that raw rough
sleep-inducing
din.
We’ve eaten the 12
jars of plums
I stewed and froze
at Christmas.
Now it’s the season
for early apples
autumn dowsings
and olives.
A good crop
they drum down
into the bucket
like ancient rains.
From Collected Poems by CK Stead, published in 2009 by Carcanet Press (www.carcanet.co.uk)CK STEAD was born in Auckland in 1932. He has published thirteen collections of poems and two of short stories, eleven novels and six books of literary criticism. His best-known critical work is The New Poetic (1964). His literary awards include the Katherine Mansfield prize for the short story, the New Zealand Book Award for poetry and the King’s Lynn Poetry Prize. Stead was awarded a CBE in 1985 for services to New Zealand literature.
