Friday, August 20, 2010

About Security


About security, they ask a lot –
old men, young women, the middle-aged;

we overlook the fact views turn
into prisons. Here twice daily

the mudflats come & go, the scene
clangs shut, you search in vain

for keys & mine are lost. What
can we unlock – the past, the pump,

the changing cells? A hacksaw would
only show the (waste) in the hourglass

& although tears pulverise both shores
they cannot always guarantee security.

In the late 1970s my first marriage broke up – a sad event for all concerned. This is a poem I wrote at the time recording  the stress and the pain. The house I left was at Papakowhai overlooking the inlet across to Titahi Bay.

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