Pukerua Bay summer
Harakeke flowers do
their comic jerky dance.
My dog is a fast flying reptile kite.
The surf whips itself into peaks
of soft buttery icing .
Tired Christmas baubles rattle
on a driftwood tree.
Amongst the detritus piled up
after all this last straw
party of a storm
was a small heart-shaped stone.
It could only end in tears.
Poems