christmas smells

this christmas has a different smell.

none of the pine quickened

charcoal fires

of a biting winter night

or the pork-and-mustard-leaf happiness

the stench of tribal feasting.

this christmas is lush

fed by a swollen river

and shaded by the broad leafed trees

of tane's mighty garden.

and try as i might

i cannot smell a feast.

note: tane is pronounced to rhyme with the 'ne' of the english word 'net'. tane is the maori god of the forests.

the river walk

i'll take the river walk
away
from the shops
or the street named after
a dead (once murderous) queen.

i'll take the river walk
past
ancient waka landings
and memories of other rivers
in other places i call home.

i'll take the river walk
home.