The Flying Lesson
As Dad is out of town
you take us to the Public Health Hui.
you take us to the Public Health Hui.
Awake in the meeting house
our exhalation is the inhalation
our exhalation is the inhalation
of another. In the half-light
you read me the plaited roof,
you read me the plaited roof,
the myth of Rangi and Papa –
of his tears and her mist.
of his tears and her mist.
In the morning everyone argues.
The word smear is banned.
The word smear is banned.
I sit near Raymond who has
dark skin and long hair.
dark skin and long hair.
My sister asks him Are you a girl?
while we play poi on the lawn.
while we play poi on the lawn.
When a seagull lands he hunkers down
and offers a torn sandwich,
and offers a torn sandwich,
as the orange beak lunges, we hoot–
helicopter pois up over our heads.
helicopter pois up over our heads.
*
On the second day the hall pours
and cracks thunder. It draws from
and cracks thunder. It draws from
the greased sky, the spotted marsh
and all the parts in between.
and all the parts in between.
A woman, her face as smooth
as a piece of pounamu
as a piece of pounamu
says There can be no compromise.
Standing in your garden jeans and a T-shirt
Standing in your garden jeans and a T-shirt
that spells Ouray on the front in cats,
you tell them of your sister and mother
you tell them of your sister and mother
who both survived cancer.
I listen in the wings, soar around the marae.
I listen in the wings, soar around the marae.