Ngawhatu by Maggie Rainey-Smith

On
the Richmond bus to Nelson passing Polstead Road


you
only had to say it, and everyone knew, unspoken

we
almost dared not look, it stirred such potent thoughts

caused
laughter, mocking, and a deeply seated superstition

innuendo
out the window, the road that leads to there

To
where? You ask? But
we all knew, we knew for sure



that�s
where the loonies go and you�ll go there for sure

Eastbourne by Helen Jacobs

1
It is to the island
and the coastlands
that the shifting light
tethers on a fluid line
weaving water and sand
and rock.

The point of going away
is always to come back �
thrice deny, and you
come back

to the shells of your sandheaps,
allow that there could be
an old spirit or two
or simply an old love affair
with the harbour playing you in.


2

Climbing to the houses
you look down to where