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Sport 42: 2014


page 255


after Maui and Manhire

It can be quite a stretch to haul
the north closer, given that great trench

in between. After lunch we
caught rides on a succession of

straights, a crooked thread line
of far peaks stitching our plains to sheets

of clouds. Only the closed mouth of
the evening vessel stalled us.

Now, among ponga overlooking
the sound, my torch shines on a thin

book she packed. It’s about our known
universe (her tutor said). How we all

live at its edge. In one poem
the word Coromandel really sticks out.