We Knew

We knew
when the whistle blew
and dungareed men
from the lamb chain
downed tools
and rushed to the six o'oclock swill

We knew
the pub by the old bridge
on the bench outside its sawdust floors
old moko'ed women enjoying a pipe
brow lined chuckles
time slipping by

We knew
the shunting of trains
puffing steam on the branch line
steel carcassed with glowing coals
near the blood shoot
where boys fished with jags

We knew
when the Waitara whistle blew

Epiha Road

Black mussels spitting their juice
on corrugated iron
over the slow fire of time

Straight from the shell
plump pink
with tiny crabs entombed

Blackberries picked on the dusty road
rutted sand
rocking grey of the Morris laden down

Black sand of the wild beach
slow cooling and a Taranaki sky
bare reefs exposed to a quarter moon

Black armbands now
for memories of picnic bankets
rusty hooks and seaweed popping
slow to burn, slow to burn