Nothing says “Reader of local NZ poets” more than finding a poem you’ve had on your wall for years, cut from your student magazine and blu tacked as an authorless text, in the poetry collection of a local NZ poet.
"He did not struggle / against what was inevitable / and around him curled / the tall pines of old country, / their fragrance and intelligence. / So dark, it was, so late. / I stand here where the officer left me / centuries ago. His monument at the lake."
brings to mind, in a good modern way:
"We passed the School, where Children strove / At Recess - in the Ring - / We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain - / We passed the Setting Sun -" ... "Since then - 'tis Centuries - and yet / Feels shorter than the Day / I first surmised the Horses' Heads / Were toward Eternity -"