Under the tekoteko Karaweko
the men korero
& the women listen.
Words wear away
& thoughts drift
to the bay
where a single yacht
rides the rolling swell.
Midwinter 1840.
A sailing ship
stands in the bay in the rain
unheralded & unwelcome.
There is a fear
& a gripping of weapons.
There was a korero then
& a piece of paper
& a korero of peace
& the Queen's korero
& then the tohu of the chiefs
& it was done.
Time wears away
& thinking softens
and this korero bears fruit.
This year there has been
an inordinate wearing of pendants.