Golden Weather (Cook Strait)
Nana died on Boxing Day
we left Makara in kayaks
we paddled all night, we paddled away
Dad steered to the Southern Cross
we lashed the dog to a boogie board
and ate cold cheerios with tomato sauce
Porpoises played as we packed our sad
at dawn we skimmed the swells
the yellow Lab sank beneath the waves
Farewell, wept Mum, farewell.
At high noon Nana was bronzed
we swallowed grief and sausage rolls
Not before time we left for home
we turned our backs on the day
goodbye, we cried, you golden sun!
goodbye, goodbye, you yellow dog!