Lovely, Max. Dreamy, naive, surprising. Thumbing your plus-sized Maori's tresses. It should be all-over rather than over-all, the tan, is all I can suggest for amendment. The length here is justified I think and the quatrains roll out apparently effortlessly.
Bill
> On 7 May 2015, at 1:36 am, Max Richards <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
> Thumb Indexing
>
> In youth I formed a plan:
> I’d cover on foot the length
> and breadth of my homeland
> earning my way as I went
>
> by knocking on doors: please
> hire me to convert dictionaries
> on the spot for a small sum
> so they’ll open by thumb
>
> to the exact page desired.
> A to Z! Thumb-indexed books
> had hand-sculptured good looks.
> Surely everyone admired
>
> reference books? Bibles too
> I thought they’d hire me
> to improve. From Gen to Rev
> in gilt tabs inspired me.
>
> With such offerings I’d work
> my way from town to town.
> North from Auckland, I’d walk
> to the top tip and back down.
>
> Zigzagging to Wellington
> might take years even hitch-hiking.
> Despite the country’s mountains
> I leaned towards push-biking.
>
> The South I’d keep for summers,
> popping home at times by rail
> and ferry, fixing my hammers
> and chisels at Uncle Dale’s.
>
> Sleepless nights in springtime
> I thought it through complete.
> I’d start when I was fifteen -
> meantime keep it secret
>
> from family and timid folk.
> I practiced tyre repairs
> on my first cheap bike,
> traded it in for one with gears
>
> (leaving me short for cash),
> studied maps, gradients
> and mileages, coast, bush,
> camping tucker, cheap ingredients.
>
> Chisels I pondered, fingering
> them on Uncle’s workbench,
> puzzled about their sharpening,
> postponing the crunch
>
> when all got set in motion.
> Shyly one day I requested
> a simple explanation
> of how he’d do it. Blast it! -
>
> it took (he said) machines
> to gouge grooves like that.
> Punctured, I felt my dreams
> gouged - unrepairably flat.
>
> Yet the rest of my plan
> remained unwavering:
> I’d pedal from home
> steadily covering -
>
> discovering - my country
> length and breadth.
> On the road! shy
> no longer, a wealth
>
> of adventure before me,
> every side road explored
> every sunset savored,
> every day quite free.
>
> Every beach, creek, pond
> or lake that took my fancy
> I’d skinny-dip in,
> getting the best over-all tan!
>
> Maybe some girl my size
> and age would care, dare
> to join me, admire
> my single-mindedness.
>
> Maori? That might be ideal
> If she had Maori wisdom -
> language, places, river, hill -
> already always at home.
>
> We wouldn't need clothes
> except amongst others.
> We’d sleep together
> like sister and brother.
>
> I dreamed long beaches,
> shellfish, driftwood fires,
> combing her long tresses;
> at long last, shared caresses.
>
> How soon? - sixteen might
> be better - seventeen? Fate
> closes in - train for a job
> or never get ahead.
>
> I needed a girl without
> ties, duties, eyes for anyone
> but me. Tall order! - but
> I could see her standing on
>
> some roadside near Whangarei
> Whakatane Wanganui
> or down Wairarapa way,
> then mapping with me
>
> our epic journey
> discovering our country,
> writing down everywhere
> for place names were poetry.
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