Tiny eyes (Translates to Matariki)
by George Sabonadiere
Staring up at many a starry night,
I notice thousands of tiny eyes,
staring back down at me.
For as Winter comes, Autumn leaves
behind nothing, but for pile upon pile of
foul smelling, nutrition lacking,
fiery leaves. But where weather lacks,
morale makes up for it in the stony eternity
that is Winter. As Papatuanuku, the
Lady of the land awakes,
A chilly, white blanket tucks the
snap-frozen grass in for Forty winks.
The food chain is oiled and made ready for
use as the Hunting season begins