New Zealand & Australia Poems

Crossing the Date Line

I lost Monday.
It’s always been right where I left it.
I packed so carefully
I was sure it must be in my suitcase
tucked it into a pocket or stuffed
in my shoe to save space.

Maybe it fell out while I was juggling
shoes, jacket quart-sized baggie
full of three-ounce liquids
holding my hands over
my head at security.

Could I have left it in the seatback or overhead
despite solicitous cabin crew warnings
to check carefully for personal items?

Not to worry.
I’ll get it back on the trip home
when I arrive five hours
before I even left.

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The Southern Cross

Te Punga, the Anchor hangs in the sky
trailing pointer stars
a rope connected
to a war canoe drifting
through the Sea called Milky Way
bringing The People to Aotearoa.

Here where the world is upside down
Orion stands on his head
and the stars of the Southern Cross –
the stars of Te Punga the Anchor –
are an astral child’s kite
flying gaily in the night sky.

******************************************

Uluru rises from the desert
like a whale breaching the ocean.
Rippling pleats and folds of rock
filigreed erosion
imprint the red walls
telling Dreamtime
tales of Time
before
    Time.