Friend

Te Ao Hou, September 1964, Page 4

Hone Tuwhare's first volume of poetry, ‘No Ordinary Sun’, published by Blackwood and Janet Paul, appeared last month. A review of it will be published in the next issue of ‘Te Ao Hou’. Friend Friend, Do you remember that wild stretch of land with the lone tree guarding the point from the sharp-tongued sea? The boat we built out of branches wrenched from the tree, is dead wood now. The air that was thick with the whir of toetoe spears succumbs at last to the grey gull's wheel. Oyster-studded roots of the mangrove yield no finer feast of silver-bellied eels, and sea-snails steaming in a rusty can. Friend, allow me to mend the broken ends of shared days: but I wanted to say that the tree we climbed that gave food and drink to youthful dreams, is no more. Pursed to the lips her fine-edged leaves made whistle—now stamp no silken tracery on the cracked clay floor. Friend, in this grim time of dark unrest I press your hand if only for reassurance that all our jewelled fantasies were real and wore splendid garb. Perhaps the tree will strike fresh roots again: give soothing shade to a hurt and troubled world. Ans Westra photo