Poem 516

A mash up of Rotorua and Napier, the two poles of my childhood …

( Nice image of the leftover sand coming out of my ears after a day at the beach as the rain of dreams … )

A Boy’s Lifetime

Down by a hundred yards of shore
I began my life as a boy
in the tiger bamboo 
and the muddy stinking plane
standing on the rusted ship's boiler
with its two elbow-deep eyes
at low tide
I knocked the wind about with a stick
and feared swans hooped like
                                    black cobras
I returned to the sea all morning
then all afternoon
salt and shouting split my lips
I stayed there for as much forever
as I could cram in a day
doing handstands in front of the waves
punching through the exact
slapping break
                               my narrow chest
pummelled and rashed red

I would come in wild
with the sun at night
skin tight with salt water
                                                 find sand 
the rain of dreams
on my pillow every morning