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
