The serpentine lane
sidewinding up the valley
fallen logs silvered by time
are the slain soldiers of the tops
no surrender has ever been signed
the river of tea
leeched by native flora & deforestation
(farming’s relentless fantasies
of covet and conquer)
scour the hills, muddy truth
these taciturn hills
with sporadic stands of native trees
say nothing; the poet must be kanuka
kauri-father, rimu-mother, speak for these brethren
I am the hills—I shall never erode
find me then, Upper Mohakatino Valley.
