Have I ever written of that terrible night? From my Cambridge Terrace riverside house Mid autumn 1968 the eerie howl of the wind and the weird charcoal afternoon sky looming glooming twixt those European trees through whose leaves I scuffed every Autumn. I stood watching trees heaving boughs creaking some 300 km from the wallowing ship where 51 died one stormy night.
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Posted: Feb 2022
About this poem:
Memories of the Wahine disaster. I had taken computers on the Wahine up to Wellington but a month before, and the Inangahua earthquake struck but six weeks later.