Sunday, 15 May 2016


My feet sink into the sand
as I tramp across the tanned shores
of my grandmother’s village in Samoa.
Waves do not rush in to greet me
I have been away too long and
this slice of the Pacific Ocean
does not easily forget.

I stop and look out into the sea
pristine as the travel brochures portray
            no need for Photoshop
            no government development plans
            no colonisation

I close my eyes and wait...

The messenger wind breezes
salty words into my ears -
            You may have taken your first breath
            on the fanua of my kin, Aotearoa
            but you have neglected the umbilicus sands and waters
            where the kenese of your
            existence is rooted.
The cool breeze leaves me then
to be beaten by the sun’s rays.

I did not notice I was gripping the sand
until I felt silk granules spill from
the Va between my toes;
grains of  late yearning
slipping into a lost past.

Published in 'Ika 4' in May 2016

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