back toJacket2

Andrew Johnston


Mauve, the blue,
from edge to edge

then all the river —
the river Mauve —

many millstreams,
many mills

grind the grain of days —
the old days, that come back

one by one, all summer,
dressed in mauve.


Mirrorshards —
the dragonfly

helps you reassemble
iridescent splinters into

something resembling
the same face, lined

with broken light —
a pool of sky, its waterskin

unhidden by
the dragonfly.


Acres of slate I walk
in my chalk boots, disproving

formula after formula.
Time swam

in my hands
for all I care —

slate’s mauve tint,
mountains of cloud —

it will rain
and it will rain.


Mauve, a moment

move over


leaving room
beside hard


Andrew Johnston

Andrew Johnston
Photo Charley Cupic

Andrew Johnston is a New Zealand poet who lives in Paris, where he edits The Page at His most recent book is Birds of Europe (Victoria University Press, 2000). ‘Mauve’ is from his forthcoming book Sol.

April 2006  |  Jacket 29  Contents  |  Homepage  |  Catalog  |  Search  |
about Jacket | style guide | bookstores | literary links | 400 book reviews |