High summer

Above me, the pink 
and grey clouds
are unravelling
It’s 8pm and still warm.
As usual, I’m struggling to 
turn the hose tap off
after watering the garden. 
They call this time 
high summer,
I believe, and it is— 
Our five tomato plants
are fruiting,
There are so many beans
and sugar snap peas we 
can’t eat them all,
The corn isn’t ready yet, 
but it will be soon, the ears
are growing, the silks 
turning brown,
and a number of huge
marrows, that grew
during our holiday, 
lie forgotten and obscured 
by leaves.
The branches of the peach
tree bow to the ground,
heavy with fruit.
I point this out to my son,
and he says,
Are they bowing to us, Mum
And I say,
Why yes.
Yes they are.
And we bow back.

Kiri Piahana-Wong

Kiri Piahana-Wong is a poet, editor and the publisher at Anahera Press. She is the author of two poetry collections, Night Swimming (2013) and Tidelines (2024), and the co-editor of Te Awa o Kupu (Penguin NZ), an anthology of contemporary Māori literature, as well as Short! Poto! The big book of small stories (forthcoming from MUP in June 2025). She lives in Whanganui.