From a kayak

The yin and yang

of silver and black

play on the liquid

inlet at dawn

reflection

sliding over tides of thought

a rippling

through ears and eyes

the soft slap and dip

of prow and paddle

finding rhythm

in water and mind

and an easing

but not to make easy

as I work the current

holding a line

past some royal spoonbills

that change legs like a child

needing to pee

glancing to the left

then right

feigning nonchalance

restless for me to pass

in peace

End of the road

I walk to the end of the road

taking more time than time before

when a rough bearded pōhutukawa

stops me as if to share a tale.

Emotions migrate like birds

in a confusion of seasons,

but the cracked concrete path takes me

for what I have become

and accepts my present,

so I go along with it.

I won’t pass this way again

so take it in with a wary eye

but at the steep end

a stiff turnstile

yields into a wide yellowing

paddock bounded by rock walls

with a spreading evergreen

at its centre, and the end of the road

may have been a gift.

Royal Oak Roundabout

I have not seen this girl before

but already I love her,

poised, upright, purposeful,

with long hair curling from her helmet

and limbs so slim and breakable

as she asserts her right

to ride with the morning traffic

through the two-lane five-point roundabout.

Belted and air-bagged I drive just behind,

mindful of old scars, praying for her.