The Remarkables (or words conceived while driving to Milford Sound from Queenstown at dawn)
By Jack Tamisiea
Crisp and jagged
set against the warm, peach-hued
backdrop of dawn.
The snow-dusted pinnacles
splattered with tangerine and honey
That slowly drips toward
the valley below
where sheep bleat, hiding
the nakedness of the field in
a blanket of cotton.
They methodically mow the fields
near the ruins of a dilapidated barn
painted pastel and amber.
Across this desolate stretch of road,
the frigid waters of Lake Wakatipu beckon,
an ominous and ancient urge rising from the
frigid abyss.
