I meet a strange land in the stillness of the night:
I find my bones longing for the damp, cold, chill.
The kind that lasts through grey endless months of dreaded wet weather.
– where long white clouds give way to dark grey skies.
I find my heart warm to endless summer days,
The kind that lasts a whole day.
– where long white clouds adorn blue skies.
Silly moments harbour memories.
I miss wet socks
I miss damp jumpers
I miss sitting in the warmth of coffee shops
I miss having something in common with the other half of the city
– The city.
I miss the city.
Drifting into the still chimes after midnight,
I find myself reciting Dave Dobbyn
Yes tonight I am feeling you under the state a strange land,
And I hear the voice of a woman with her hands trembling
Nau mai rā
@ Hans Lee