Thinking of Swedish thoughts, behaving in an English way
wanting to stay
and to go
back to South Island
or home north.
Washed away by eager vain wants and dislikes
in constant battle.
Seas have been crossed, miles of green inprinted on screen
every line of grey;
misty, light, dark and mean.
Heads and heads of cattle,
my heart in awe, in two places now
some as Swedish thoughts
and others heading to Roturoa.