Rotoiti
So I woke up in the cave / I was naked / except for my clothes / which were ragged and useless I was cold / and stoked the fire / with a stick the smoke twisted up and around itself / in the darkness of the roof / searching for some way out but the cave wasn’t all that dark / when the sun came up / I could make out my fingernails / and the logs stacked in the corner / and general flavour of the tins red I had discovered was corned beef / green was not peas / but pears / and blue with white stripes / was still unidentified sweet and nutty / a tang that reminded me of the lake with my brother / both of us hanging on the tail of our spaniel / as he paddles hard / to the stick we’d thrown.