a poem by Alistair Campbell

My friend Tama, whom I know from life-drawing, sent me this lovely lovely poem by a Cook Island New Zealander. I have no idea what its about, but it just sounds lovely....

IX Trade Winds


You were just a girl,
one of two wild sisters,
when he came to Tongareva,
a gloomy trader,
his soul eaten away
by five years
in the trenches.
You followed him
from island to island,
bore his children
only to see your dreams
break up
on the hidden reef
of Savaiki.
Mother,
your footsteps falter
outside my window,
where you have waited
fifty years
for your children
to return.
The moon comes out,
lovely
as a mother's face
over a sleeping child.
the trade winds
are your fingers
on my eyelids.
********************
Nice, eh?