
The mother, a bridge,
carries the weight of her world
ironclad shoulders

The mother, a bridge,
carries the weight of her world
ironclad shoulders

Pimples on the Earth
sign of boiling rage within;
volcanic showdown

Blending blissfully
blues of the ocean and sky
untarnished by wars

I wake to a glow
alien pink filters in
my window at five

Tiny Christmas lights
bringing joy to street corners
Pōhutukawa.