I watch great gulls,
beaks curved like peeling knives,
pull mussels off the rocks
and drop them from a hover above the road.
The meat inside must be worth the work,
scraps of lunch surely remain unguarded
at the Fisherman’s Table.
In the harbour a looming ferry
tilts yachts in its wake.
While a loamy garden’s succulents
2 thoughts on “Tuesday Poem – From the kitchen”
Strong images and language here – love the beaks like peeling knives, ‘looming’ and ‘loamy’ and the succulents growing tough. In fact, that’s it – the language is succulent and meaty. We have similar views, Saradha, on opposite sides of the harbour ? How did your Sunday reading go? I bet you were great. So sorry I didn’t make it. Family called.
Thank you, Mary. This was a scene from a friend’s kitchen around Hataitai way.
Sunday was great! I was shaking with nerves but buzzing afterwards! So fun.