of New Zealand. (For this year)

and only 17 days of it under these long white clouds

the weather has turned her kind face towards us.

Last night I ate charcoal-oiled onions smelling like cool summer dusk, and watched fireworks spinning from behind a friendly wooden pole, and wrapped my arms around people who know me well enough to brush the hair out of my eyes.

A little boy took off my socks and shoes.
and put them on the floor, next to his.
and then I washed them all,
and they blew wet cotton flags outside my door.

a vibrant and lovely expression of humanity

and today I chose to cry for good reasons, instead of bad ones.

Last month. and with it the certainty -
I made something here

and

I will be just fine

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