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When you think of it

poets play shape-shifting games

you know what they’re saying

next thing, you don’t, they plant

a line into your mind like –

fires of no return

making the far land glow

when evening comes, something

elemental in a timeless land


an old friend likes to say, throw a word

into the air, another word will

fly to it – a poem of this place is born

out of moments like that, where land

people and language join together

whenua, nga tangata, te reo


and kahu the hawk soaring toward the sun

mocks the ambition of Icarus, daring

us to look into our own nature, like Maui

out there fishing up who knows what

and dream that we might just once, write

something that

                              still shines, when you think of it


Maui at Matahiwi

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