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Waiheke

for days

we walk the island

 

broken tennis rackets, tent poles

strange murmurs in the bushes

 

today is night without the darkness

rain falls like a whisper

 

we watch a grey mass of cloud

shift across the sky

 

and smoke damp cigarettes,

hold hands beneath trees

 

the fish and chip lady sings 'love me tender'

over the splutter of fat

 

my shoes fill with sand,

we fall asleep on the beach

 

in the morning we swim

the bluest, coldest sea

 

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Poem Audio

  • Ella Holcombe