You stole my tide…..my sea of plenty
and fed it to the toi toi’s saw-like teeth.
When I lay sleeping
you slipped a fish-hook to my tongue to
reel me in…
should I say too much.
You gifted me a pretty dress
lined in a fisherman’s net
to remind me that I AM your flotsam…caught.
You invite my bone’s to swim with your’s…
I break-surface to find you laughing-cruel upon the rock’s, and
again I’m slick with oil.
This environmental disaster
makes you not my master.
I still have in my hand
one tiny grain of sand…
MY PROMISED LAND