Waikanae

From the dark silty lips of the rivermouth, breathing out the fresh mountains sweat...
And when the tide changes breathing in the oceans entrance.
Estuary lungs and lagoons.
Fine patterned sand trapped between the waves and one continuous hairy dune hairline, from otaihanga to peka peka.
Small shameless protea clumps show off on sandy banks to solitary gargantuan phoenix palms and grouchy macracarpa.
Along the road from the closed gas station to the pub is every colour of grass, flower and tree from the golf course green to the vegetable garden of yee.
Village shops stacked together like bricks in a wall along a path.
A highroad and trainline boundaries and limits between two sides of waikanae.
And Elizabeth whose curves lead into the land, there lies my home between the hearts.
Between the bare hill of a pine man´s head with spine connected, and the forested hill of two trees as an everlasting couple on top of hemi matenga.
A heartbeat from the gates of heaven.