Reflections on Island Bay

 

REFLECTIONS ON ISLAND BAY


I  live in a house with plenty of glass
So that vistas and perspectives and mirages
Are part of every day in plain sight -
Grandeur stretched across and beyond the little town.

I often rise early - as dawn‘s gold gloves

Finger the rims of the Rimutakas
And the stars start to fade,
Spilt like gemstones from the robber sun.

And Pencarrow and Baring Head,

Like jewels that have dropped to earth,
Sparkle on the steel grey cloths of the headlands
As fold after fold wraps back from shadow.

And the Bay below is still or wild or fierce

And though this may seem incongruous
And un-poetic, the blue frontage and night-long
Glare of the Fu Xian Takeaway retreats.

...

Skylines distorted and re-aligned by the windows -

A slice of the Orongorongo ridgeline matched
With the Oku Street Reserve; with the horizon
Levelled and the sea picking up the quilt.

The gap across to the Seaward Kaikouras

Shows no mountains, touches no new edges
But the reddening evening sky holds clouds
That hint of land, and I swear I see the sea beneath.

...

Rinsing glasses in the late evening at the sink

The lights of Island Bay are mirrored
In the windows that enfold my dreamtime
And the cars buzz across the glass and bolt.

 

Houses and streets spark against the hillside

A second world refracted in the panes -

Like a hobbit village, glowing with hearths,

Open to a visitation from the wizard.

 

...

 

And here lives an oakenshield with a grey beard

And his straw Stetson hat bannered 'New Zealand'

On the black band - set and ready to retake treasure

From the pendants that flicker on the dragon's back -

And feast a summer's eve on paua fritters,
Spring rolls, and fish and chips in Shorland Park.