Thirteen waves: iv

Cloud-capped Taranaki, driftwood in front. Photo Dave Young CC BY 2.0
Cloud-capped Taranaki, driftwood in the foreground. Photo Dave Young CC BY 2.0


Not many people understand that
curled up high by the tide
is the weather-front,
a rendez-vous of sticks and sand,
the aged lovers holding hands
as tight as a whelk in a shell,
and the embryo of a dune.
Look, you don’t just slap up
a concrete wall and call it
real estate.

Poem and reading by Rachel McAlpine cc by 2.0, photo by Dave Young CC BY 2.0 via Flickr.

Dave Young’s note:

Strong winds blow the black sand along the beaches of coastal Taranaki and expose the broken driftwood deposits of storms long past. This driftwood serves as a foundation for the dunes.

Thirteen waves: iii



The sea does not need me
to say nice things about it.
Love rubs bleak in a gale.
Sap leaks, wind seals, word fails,
wood heals white and shiny.

Poem and reading by Rachel McAlpine CC BY 2.0, photo of New Plymouth Harbour in Cyclone Bola 1988 from Archives NZ, CC BY 2.0.