summer skin II

There's a particular skin
   to camping, to
    this time of year:
  it's a little
       evaporated, it
   sleeps next to the shhh of the ocean
it has a new ochre colour
   and
- sometimes -
 burnt charcoal;

Summer's skin knows long nights,
   dripping mornings
  waking up stuffy, it wears
 smoke-stained hair
it has friends and lovers
   brush up against it
it knows sugar-and-salt

it's
  better
 and
  worse
 at the same time.

Sometimes I feel
like the particles of me are
   summer, like
the essence of me
is summer --
 that as equally as I am
human
   I am
          this time of year.

Perhaps that's why travelling
pulls so strong --
I'm in the wrong place
   at the wrong time, half the year.

(Tawhitokino at New Year's.)

wave

You are part of that wave -

did you 
feel it ?

For all my uncertainty, I've tread 
around you the same,

I've sought your advice

for things I'd 

with you...

Though I don't know how your arrows sit

I know, at least, they're 
anchored in sincerity

and having spent my other currency

 at the beach

    above the mountain

        in the cellar -

all places glittery -

I'd still sit in spotlights first,

if you'd let me.

Addicted to not sleeping. 

colour war : shape shifting

No-one's organized enough to save the world

Because we're all busy doing things that destroy it.