On the Walk to Separation Point

 

Crusty branches

Too decrepit for these trees

Lie splayed across the track

 

Ahead, a line of small hunched turtles

Children bent over, packs on backs

Their muted voices fragmenting

 

A tree has fallen in the bay

Milky water washing its dry limbs

 

We tramp forward

A drum roll of muddy boots

On a graveyard of skeleton leaves

 

I am thinking of things I do not have

My hand curved around a grainy old stick

On the walk to Separation Point.

 

First Runner-up (Primary/Intermediate)

Oliver Sircombe-Kohen

Mapua School

Tasman