We travelled to Mapua <br />through Nelson from the Sounds <br />in the hot afternoon sun <br />between colonnades <br />of scruffy apple trees, <br />their burden of fruit ready to shed <br />sparkling balls of blood <br />dancing in the breeze <br />& the road rides on <br />to Mapua’s wharf & over there <br />is rabbit island, framing <br />the river mouth with a slab of dark pine <br />& on the other side <br />— the motorcamp, nestled between <br />huge trees, not meant for harvest <br />just shelter & ‘clothing optional’ <br />the café now spawns delicacies <br />a small restaurant behind smokes <br />fish & oysters & makes the best <br />burgers around, yet here it was <br />that another world existed <br />& brave men ferried cargo <br />across the teeming strait <br />on timber boats the size of small trucks <br />— even using sails & oars <br />& people were withdrawn or deposited <br />on these planks long-gone replaced, <br />to make way for the new, repair the past <br />from Mapua to Nelson... <br />still in the sun <br />the bay sparkles & a bright sea mist <br />covers the horizon — the blue sky, <br />faultless — the fields flicking by <br />like cubist paint effects in drought <br />but still lots of green to lead us <br />into night & the broken white line <br />of winding black roads <br />littered with carrion & daylight <br />memories, meanders us back toward <br />the Sounds.<br /><br />William Cook<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-road-less-travelled-aotearoa-exodus/
