An ancient fugue echoes
echoes from the beach near
the steep hill at Waikouaiti
across the bay towards
Karitane as another receding
tide near Old Head Street
exposes a feast of fresh
clams. Red-billed gulls and
caspian terns in saturnalia,
but still they squabble and
dash in bursts, their lowered
necks across drying sand.
An old man with
a bright blue t-shirt and
a bright yellow life-jacket, who
gently paddles an undersized
purple sea kayak. A
dog looks on. I guess
you could say that it’s
unimpressed. And a dozen
or so kids drop
baited lines from the pier
now also looking remarkably hopeful,
though less than was
true an hour ago.
And as the wind picks
up, a woman with calves
like boab trees waddles
past with a fluffy
dog far too energetic for
such a place, and the
water’s surface begins to
break. It is afternoon
after all – the time for
tide’s turning and a welcomed
coolness from the stinging
Otago sun. The auditory
and the gustatory notes creep
towards the repeat bar.
© Jason Goroncy
1 January 2012
“the stinging Otago sun”
Sounds like you’re having a warmer summer than South Coast NSW! :)
Nice poem
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You took me there Jason – can smell the salt and the seaweed! Thank you.
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Lots of great internal rhymes, Jason. The sort of poem that needs repeated readings to get to hear all the sounds going on in it. Love the unimpressed dog!
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Glad you liked it Mike.
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