Proof the Wind Is a Woman

Pull sound from the shape of the soil
push yourself into the earth’s crevices
join waves in the quest to break the cliff’s face

Do not be angry when they call you capricious
while your constant currents continue
unnoticed, they will notice your wild cries

Call them untamed child’s tantrum
when they say this, coil hair
into their open mouths

If, after years of relentless effort, you
drag down a tree and
they say the tree just fell

Do not correct them, let them feel
the turbulence of an airplane
rip receipts from fingers clasping

Hoist ship’s sails on your hips
drag them across the ocean when
their oars can only scrape the sea

If, after all that, you cannot push open the door
then press yourself into the key
hole and scream

About the author
Gabrielle McCulloch is a student at The University of Auckland studying English and Politics. She writes poetry, short stories, personal essays and whatever else she wants. After living in Auckland, Aotearoa her whole life, Gabrielle recently fell in love with her city. She is excited about discovering what New Zealand poetry and art is, and what it could be.