Karaka Wind

A lively childish breeze defies children, teachers and his Big Momma

I heard a young wind from Linwood Road

rapping a delinquent song on Urquhart’s shed

and grinned: no radio reggae

could match this rattle.

Even the cattle stopped to ponder it.

 

Disturbed, the boy breeze took off towards Te Hi Hi

and as I drove past the school

was cornered, stealing chuckles from children

by teachers armed with ghetto-blasters.

 

Across the Manukau

a tall, calling wind came stomping in

and little Bob Marley was away, laughing,

 

winding himself up over the western beaches,

growling at storms along the southern approaches.

Reviews

[Ron]

This poem threads so seamlessly around its New Zealand location. The place names whip with the wind and with this strong, imaginary, Kiwi images come into non Kiwi minds. The thought of a Bob Marley tune ("Don't worry" perhaps) wrenched up and away in a strong, calling wind seems a splendid thing. Why do I see Urquart's shed as corrugated iron? Few words, exquisitely chosen, evoke such strange detail. A random trawl of New Zealand pictures on the internet brings confirmation to the pictures in my mind. I am surprised how accurate my images were. I encourage WC members to follow this writer. There is a lot to learn from him. Read too his "Ascent to Everest". A remarkable work!