joining the circle
aunty, cousins, niece
it's women's work preparing kai
we peel kumara
peel, cut, peel, cut.
Aunty reminds us 'how many
hands make light work'
purple stained palms
we korero -
three generations sharing stories
peel, cut, peel, cut.
kumara after kumara
we fill the pot
one kumara, two kumara,
three kumara....four
we peel kumara
until our fingers bleed
tomorrow we will do it all over again.
oh, what a powerful poem in its love and simplicity. Thank you, Janette!
ReplyDeleteThank you Efi.xx
DeleteYEs. grand and epic and solid too.
ReplyDeleteThank you Kerri.xx
Deletethe prosaic generational rhythm is like music - life! (sometimes)
ReplyDeleteThank you Jeffree.xx
Delete