Kaipara Winter’s Morning
All is quiet when the mist seeps in
to hold the land close in its selfish embrace.
The twiggy branches of the gingko are decked
with the clever webs of orb-web spiders.
They shimmer in the slightest breeze.
The bright green grass glistens with dew
and my steps form wet hollows.
In the orchard, a tahou hops and flits
on lichen-encrusted bough.
His breakfast a selection of tiny insects.
Jane Percival, July 2015