Tuesday Poem: Pukerua Bay, by Anne Harré

 
Pukerua Bay
for Jane

The city is a sheath of glass and low sun, clouds puff puffing
the blue sky, a lazy menace across the bay. I have the promise

of lunch (or at least a decent morning tea) waiting down
the liquorice motorway. In the car I breathe my way to the sea.

The light is deafening, Kapiti rolls itself, stretches itself on the horizon
and I follow your instructions along the beach, over the wooden

walkway, past baches, homes and views that defy the imagination,
to the single Norfolk Pine and long steps up to the house. See this,

you say pointing to the tangle of weeds, un-mown lawn, Jerusalem
clover planted under the cross, those dots are the blood that dripped

down, that’s what we were told, Catholics like a bit of drama, you say,
your skirt gently flap flapping. When I leave I take some away with me

but, unsure of what book to use, I press them in-between the pages
of the Shorter Oxford, under ‘h’ for heart.

Credit note: "Pukerua Bay" was first published in JAAM 27 (2009).

About Anne Harré

Anne Harré has a BA from the University of Canterbury in Music, American Literature, History & Politics. In 2001 she completed the diploma in Publishing and Editing from the Whitireia Polytechnic. She has also successfully completed several undergraduate papers from Victoria University’s International Institute of Modern Letters. Though slightly convoluted, her work history has included stints as a music teacher, a book seller, time with The New Zealand Book Council, Trustee of The Randell Cottage Writers Trust, and freelance editing.

Her poetry has been published in Jaam, The New Zealand Poetry Society Anthology, The NZ Listener, and non-fiction and reviews in The Christchurch Press and the DominionPost. As well as design and layout, she has been a past editor for the NZPS anthology. She lives and works in Wellington.

You can see all the Tuesday Poems at the Tuesday Poem blog.