A drive from Te Awamutu to Otaki in May

And the wind howled high in the sky
We left on the left side of the road
Popped in the bubble car sigh
Like a Biblical trio we goad

The ordinary strangeness was unreal
The sun said “stop it” and all we could do was drive
So we dry did drive as the rain upon us pealed
Downward waves swarm drops alive

We converse and cover a diverse topic
Of no consequence, a mere way of telling each other’s tone
Nothing too much, we bumped and banged ridges myopic
Not anywhere close to home, though we roam

Kihikihi, Taumarunui, strange other names and off roads
By ways galore, I feel like a roady now… or
a rodeo clown called Maurice that waltzed in to buy a mince pie
Threes company, one’s a clown

This trip least reminds me of fishing
A hot sandy beach, or television
Waiouru, Bulls and other places of wishing
We’re not even going to Wellington

These non-relenting mountainous territories
They show you how to collaborate in a docile way
Hold penned in sheep. Like people except no stories
The sunray is trapped in the silage and hay

Otaki has a race course where the grass can thrive
In expansive mood the forefathers built two townships here
We stop and chat to a forecourt attendant, glad and alive
Pulled in we head for a spot to dwell and meet and veer

A drive from Te Awamutu to Otaki in May

Jade Stevens

Hamilton, New Zealand

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