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August 7, 2017 | by  | in Poetry |
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Christchurch

Here in sunset city
The streetlamps flicker on
In sickly saffron grid-lines, marching
Out across the plains,
While headlamps pulse
Down darkening streets
In liquid floods of light.

In sunset city,
Cicadas clatter like
Loose screws
In empty lots, where
Weeds, persistent as grief,
Push between the cracks
In memory.

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He Tāonga

:   I wanted to write this piece, in order to connect to all tauira within the University, with the hope that we can all remind ourselves that we are a part of an environment which is valuable, no matter our culture, our beliefs or our skin colour. The ultimate purpose of this