Sunday, June 25, 2006

One day later, here I am - still on my own. Goodness knows where Hamish is. He was supposed to call this morning before leaving Gisborne. I have no idea whether he simply didn't get around to calling before getting into the car and is enroute, or whether he is still on the East Coast. He's supposed to be vjing at the Tattoo Museum tonight, and I don't know how to get hold of them to let them know he may not be there!

I have been keeping warm by reading in bed for most of the day, but gave in at 3.00 and turned on the central heating. It's now warm enough for me to sit here on the sofa typing. Although I do still have on a polyprop top, poncho and woollen beanie. I love my beanie. Oversized and knitted from non-descript beige wool, made with love by a gone-but-not forgotten American hippie friend. I love my poncho too - bright red and bought from a Peruvian clothing stand at the Aotea Markets in Auckland when we were up there for Hamish's 30th birthday. I remember slipping it over my head in the scorching heat, and just knowing it would be mine.

A small pile of other warm clothes is lying on the bedroom floor. Black beanie (less likely to blow off in Southerlies), gloves, track pants and Les Mills shirt. All ready for my 10km run tomorrow, together with my old faithful blue running shoes. Surely the weather won't be as cold as last year again? I'm not holding out any hope.

Since I said this would be a place for my poetry, I thought I would start where it all began... This is the first poem that was born from the universe into my consciousness:


I live in you.
On the day you took my hand
I packed up my worldly acquisitions:
The books, the clothes, the dusty
Suitcases under the bed,
And moved into your
Two up, two down,
Home renovator's dream.

Your walls contain me.
Your windows are my view.
I leave each morning through your door,
And I sleep under your rafters.
Your fence lines are my limits,
Your mortar my safety.

There will be
No open tender
No auction.
When I finally leave this dwelling
The advertising campaign will read
First time on the market in 50 years,
Lovingly preserved,
One careful owner.

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