Poem 378

I remember this morning, it was May 1983, I stopped on the hill up to the university to look out at the harbour that dazzled with orange and gold light … I’ve seen it on occasion in different years but usually May for some reason …

( I like the assonant rhyming of rich/fish/spits, the alliteration of runs/rich paved/planes, and the almost-rhyme of sky/day … and of course the Crunchie bar wrapper which evokes (for a kiwi kid anyway) the shining gold light better than anything else could … )

Harbour Morning

The sea runs rich with fish
the sky is paved with planes
                                                           day spits
blood through the keyhole
cracks the sun into the clouds
yolk as brilliant 
as a TV egg

waves are running from the light
wild gold foil 
from a Crunchie bar
it wraps the horizon round