A week of poems: Airini Beautrais’s ‘North Mole’

 

 

North Mole

 

We see Kupe climb out of his car

at the North Mole, pull his wetsuit

hood over his head, place foot after foot

on the sharp rocks towards where we are.

Hey man, he says, as he reaches the sand.

He’s given up on the gym –

it doesn’t motivate him.

He has more of a surfer’s mind. And the band?

Yeah, yeah, his music is going well.

He times his movements to the swell;

so many things could lie beyond the roll

of water, out past the end of the mole.

And each wave curling in to the shore

is like the sea saying what are you waiting for?

 

©Airini Beautrais

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