This poem is taken from PN Review 68, Volume 15 Number 6, July - August 1989.
Visiting Worser Bay School on Sunday MorningHoneysuckle, taupata, rangiora, briar rose,
the usual Wellington tangle spreading over
the usual hill, steep to the sea; behind me
the school in its soughing pines - and pohutukawas
which also sing to the wind, but not with the aching cry
of the pines. All as it was. Forty years since I
bustled about (I suppose that's what I did)
in these hilltop classrooms, while the amiable
...
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