Waikaia Poem

Yesterday afternoon after an art gallery event in Gore, we made a spur-of-the-moment decision to drive to Waikaia for pizza in the pub rather than return to our too-warm home in Gore (height of summer here in New Zealand). The photos here were all taken yesterday and I’m also presenting a Waikaia poem by Kay McKenzie Cooke who grew up in Southland and spent some of her holidays with relatives in Waikaia. This small rural town is well off the “beaten path”, way out in the country.

Waikaia, Southland, New Zealand. Photos taken Sunday 10 Feb 2019

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Wooden tank that marks the turn-off to Waikaia. The original goldmining town, further away, was called Switzers but they basically mined themselves out of existance!

Waikaia is famous for its  bottle house  hence this fascinating road sign

Modern gently arched bridge over the Waikaia River

Then a beautiful avenue of elms lead the way to the town centre

Here is a view of the river and willow trees, taken by Nigel from the bridge, looking downstream

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This is where I introduce Kay’s poem “each verandah” from her book of poems titled “made for weather” published 2007. These days Kay McKenzie Cooke lives in Dunedin, New Zealand and her WP blog is  CUTTINGS

each verandah

Homesick for the more familiar
ocean and rain,
I was lost
in that inland town tied to willows
and a river,

where each strange verandah
painted bright, each snug window,
neat hedge,
suggested something more sinister
than the mere unwinding

of a fortnight’s holiday
where the light was hot
and dark-liquid fly-traps
festered in five-gallon drums.
But the swimming hole –

reached over ground rough
with raspberry,
with its rope swing
and smell of mud –
gave off the smell of home

and for a time there,
I would revel
in the Waikaia’s attentive rocking,
my limbs under water, wavering
pale and unfamiliar.

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In a conversation via “comments” this morning I told Kay about how we’d driven around Waikaia streets looking for a bright verandah but these days the houses all seem to be painted in neutral colours. And she told me this..

“There was a house there in the 60’s that was painted almost in rainbow colours – I think they called the woman who lived there the Colour Lady – and it was largely that house (bungalow) that inspired that particular line in the poem.” — Kay McKenzie Cooke

I leave you with photos of this lovely old cottage and gate that we found..

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Text and photos by Liz, river photo by Nigel; Exploring Colour (2019)
The poem “each verandah” shared with permission of Kay McKenzie Cooke