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

No comments:

Post a Comment