Sunday, February 22, 2009

Hull Road 1951
We lived just a Mother’s call away from a
white sandy beach and a stream running to the sea.
Close enough to hear the wind in the dark pine forest.
Summer almost eternal,
but winter came and bought chilblains,
broken glass on puddles, echoing voices, other times.
Mimi squelching Sidle jelly between the fingers.
Firsts happened here, sheltered lessons of life.
Returning many times, I do not see the changes.
It is a feeling for the place. A healing.
Immigrants we were and are, invisibly tied forever.
Mt. Maunganui before the world went mad

Friday, February 20, 2009

I have had a trial at changing the blog width, and the line height. Maths has never been my strong point and already I have numbers missing and what's more the old brain cannot be trusted to retrace the steps back. Ahhh well. I'll let myself get used to this format and see how it sits over time. In this tropical cyclone I have just had watercare in and they have dug up the storm water drains and will return middle of next week to take photos and see what the trouble is. Meanwhile there is mud.