Tag Archives: poem

Mele Beach

Why this eternal return
to islands, and beaches
where everything written
is washed away?

Pinching myself hard on the thigh
I tread water, and gaze—unbelieving
across the gently heaving waves, to a palm-fringed beach
where a solitary child, white school shirt unbuttoned
flapping in the sun—runs home across the sand
over the fallen tree, up the road to Mele village

A frigate bird screeches, swooping
for a fish, thrown high from the hand
and a bright red bucket—to my delight
riding for hours—an endless tide of gifts
rising—falling—rising again, wrinkling my fingertips
sending me back to my towel and jandals


drovers’ hut, Mamaku Ranges

Drovers Hut - Mamaku Ranges

State Highway 5

just off the roadside

on a gentle rise of hill

watching over the traffic

abandoned now—empty and gathering moss

while the wires above

and the road below

clamour on with the incessant buzz of humanity

but not very long ago

its own once upon a time

of sweat and mud

smoke in the chimney

spring lambs and winter catastrophes

old jokes

warm cups of tea

and shelter

Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge: Humanity