HEBE IN THE DAWNING LIGHT

Came over all photographer this morning
struck as I was by the nonsensical isolation
of My Auckland, so–called ‘big’ CITY (in the country)
You can run out your front door & be
engulfed in the warmth of the ice cold winter bush
Why do people sleep (in their heat-pumped homes)
when there’s this to break their fast:
hebe in the dawning light
pukeko unafraid stripping soft flesh from a piece of straw
pohutakawa bud, dormant promise
roped off paths slipping in to the sea to defiantly run along
the haunting call & flap of hurried flight
birds disturbed by my running feet
on gravel, shell, clay
the echoing horn of the Half Moon Ferry
as it leaves its dock across the bay
a few horses coated, one stretches over the fence to lick dew
a paddock of cows, toadstools
forefront Maungarei, standing roughly round
like an undiscovered passage tomb
This is what fitness is
Hauora
Auahi Kore
appreciating the survival of indigenous toanga
living on
despite colonization, urbanization
the pukeko, hebe, the Maori man line-fishing off the rocks
carrying on ways from the past
carrying on

©