Live Encounters Aotearoa New Zealand Poets & Writers March 2026
The limping dance of ghosts, poems by Trisha Hanifin.
The limping dance of ghosts
We watch a film on the life of Samuel Beckett
each scene no matter how dark
lit from within like a Rembrandt painting
every utterance a linguistic caress
(and our father’s ghost shuffles between us)
Afterwards we walk through a courtyard
white stones and orange flowers, and under a tree
on the grass verge an old chair and foot stool
it could’ve been an image from the film
an invitation to sit and ease a burden
(and our father’s ghost limps between us)
Under the last of the cherry blossom in the park
we talk of our father and brothers
she says, those stories they tell
they don’t respect his suffering
but to me it seems so much is gallows
humour; they got the worst of him
(and our father’s ghost stumbles between us)
Each of us carries the weight differently but none of us ever lets him go.
Turangawaewae*
The sadness is upon me
and everything I’d planned
must retreat to shadow
and wait for light to return
Meanwhile, in my mind
I’m on my way south
driving through Burkes Pass
where, as a child, my mother planted trees
on the roadside with her father,
then travelling on, past Pukaki’s turquoise waters to Aoraki
my heart seeking the freedom highway
Woody Guthrie sang about, where all roads are held in common
and we the people have liberty to walk them at will
On this journey the sound of our marching feet
recalls the memory of our mothers’ heartbeat
and together we sing the old songs and all roads lead home.
*Te reo: turanga standing place; waewae feet –
a place to stand; a home place; a place of belonging.
Ogham lines *
Every poem is an act
of remembering
and resistance
every line an arrow
to the heart
of the unspoken
And the young rise up like flames
for our warmth and illumination
Be like waves
rise and break
and rise again
Carve words
on the broken bones
of the world.
*Ogham – pronounced om – an ancient Irish alphabet consisting of lines and strokes often carved on stones and trees used, among other things, to mark territory and record the names of the dead.
© Trisha Hanifin
Trisha Hanifin lives in Auckland and writes novels, short stories, flash fiction and poetry. Her work has been published in a range of literary journals and anthologies, including Bonsai: Best small stories from Aotearoa New Zealand, Landfall, Headland, Fresh Ink, Flash Frontier, and the 2021 New Zealand Poetry Society Anthology. In 2019, the unpublished manuscript of her speculative fiction novel, The Time Lizard’s Archaeologist, was runner-up in the Ashton Wylie Mind Body Spirit award. The Time Lizard’s Archaeologist was published by Cloud Ink Press in 2021. Apart from continuing to write poetry, her current writing project is a crime novel set in New Zealand in 1951 during the infamous Waterfront lockout – the longest industrial dispute in New Zealand history.