FOR ANZAC

Remembering those who served

kiwissoar

KARANGA

In the early dawn they gather
rank on rank, the bugle sounds
the old men with their medals
the families gathered round

but just beyond the shadows
out where the darkness dims
where memories are whispering
the others gather in

they stand by their old comrades
in proud review they come
and ever on the morning chill
they hear the muffled drum

they come in from the battlefields
the beaches and the skies
from every place and every land
to where the loved flag flies

Haere mai, Haere mai…

© M Sudlow

anzac 001

The karanga is the calling in – haere mai welcome

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TRANSITIONS

A haibun on change and transitions for Dverse poets

It was a gypsy life in the Air Force – home was always wherever we hung our hats.  We got used to hanging new curtains, digging new gardens, meeting new neighbours, and the children survived a succession of schools and friendships.  They grew up and left home, and still we travelled on, just on our own this time.

Then for a while we put down roots in a wild and lovely place, built a barn, built a life and a church.  So many good friends, none of them rich or even very famous, all of them special.  The gifted years, treasure beyond treasure stored up as memories.  Until we got older, and the children were too far away, and the distances too great.

This time the wrench of leaving was something we felt, like a tree being pulled from good earth.  Pieces of our hearts left behind among the mountains and sea-spray.  A different transition.

you and I
always moving on
together