Category: New Zealand

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Black Bird

  The black bird on a black tree sprouting black leaves whistles at me; me, in my blended sweater wooden bench my skin dipped caramel and the glint of inside lamplight against my watch face.

That man, there

  the one at the corner table with a steady drip, drip, drip of the rain gutter run off on the vinyl table which splashes against his wristwatch, even I can see the water drops on his wristwatch even I, from my middle table, my table safe under the wide awning, safe from the refuse of rain that pads the streets with puddles that … Read More That man, there

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A Walk on the Beach in the Evening

  Sun shades ripple over black ant dunes and I, cast, with earth toes spread uneven relaxed am tall and small and quiet. My hair, golden unkept electric the rogue wind calls my soul responds.

Shadow Dance

  As I nap in the currents of undiluted ocean with its vibrant sea salt cleansing my salty soul, I notice: I am taller here. Cast long, with the shadows uninterrupted by anything– my shadow is graceful and still and I wonder: what might she be thinking?

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The Great Bellowing Taranaki Wave

“Okay, we’ll stop here.” I let the fins of my kayak paddles rest against the smooth ocean, just as my right shoulder was reaching its throbbing limit. I was relieved I wouldn’t have to ask for a break; when I told David I had kayaked before, I had failed to say that “before” meant five or six years ago. I wondered what effect the … Read More The Great Bellowing Taranaki Wave

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Composting

When my body wakes me. It’s still dark. I open the window above my bed. The whispering dawn snuggles down. Down into my hair. Down into the space between me and my sleeping bag. Which I sleep in despite the closet full of sheets. The whispering dawn lifts me out. Out into my running shorts. Into my cheetah print bandana. Into my bright blue … Read More Composting

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Half a Year Away, Away (and Happy 300!)

Half a year has gone by since I left Kansas. I’m still learning various currency exchange rates and the metric system, so still going strong (relative phrase). Relativity is a fickle friend. If I think on some of the travelers I have met—Liz and Hadyn in Assisi, who have been backpacking the world since summer 2016, Sara in Mostar, who traveled alone for three … Read More Half a Year Away, Away (and Happy 300!)

Warmth in a Morning

  I wake up the long way this morning: my fire reflects last night’s hearth the ashes cold the glass remembers. Cold cuts grow like cast iron Sundays & I find it so easy to blink slow.

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The Feeling of a Next Step

It happens, sometimes, when I am planning what’s next. I’ll be running from that feeling of restless boredom with the present, chasing a desire to be free and unlimited again. I’ll head to the library. Start pulling any “Best Tramps of New Zealand”, “Hidden Places of the Pacific Islands”, “1000 Things to See in the North Island” sort of books I can find. I’ll … Read More The Feeling of a Next Step

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South by Southwest

I looked at the map. Pointed at Cornwallis Beach. For the sake of direction, not destination. The day was Monday and free as butterfly, and I chucked Dune, my notebook, a Tupperware container of rice, an extra sweater, and my colored pencils in my backpack and cycled to the train station. My launching port would be the Glen Eden train station. Thus equipped, I … Read More South by Southwest

I am an Alphabet

  I contemplate the alphabet— and return to kindergarten days of green felt marker streaks on my peanut butter paws. The alphabet. Raw goods carried my way on a train puffing along, make way to unload make way to manufacture, make way to export!

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Aestheticism

  I take the espresso outside and tuck myself in the corner on a wide metal seat at a small wooden table. The air about me is forest fresh, and brings hints of the rain which thumps the streets beyond this awning.