APIRANA TAYLOR

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as if asleep

as if asleep


she lay


on the traffic island

stretched out


her long dark hair


a trail in the gutter


her young daughter behind her
gazing down with a gentle look


rocking the pram


looking at her mum


to whom Hine-nui-te-pō had just come and called


‘Haere mai rā sister,’


there she lay
as if in a sleep


before the mall in Whangarei

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