Sam Hunt & Full Circles

Yesterday I started reading a book of Sam Hunt’s poetry – Making Tracks A Selected 50 Poems. I have taken this book out from the library once before but didn’t open it last time. This time I opened it and found that it has been personally signed and dedicated to the Port Chalmers Library. I sat and stared at that dedication for quite some time. I am constantly moved by how other people are affected by my “home town” – Simon commented “well, Port Chalmers is one of those places where you might expect an artist like Sam Hunt to leave something behind”

Last night I sat there and read almost half of the poems on offer and am truly moved by how much Sam’s writing puts across his own personal experiences, his own personal world. I guess I look at poetry as being the ultimate in veils and suggestions, never thinking it may actually act in the way a diary does with place names and people discussed. This is so very brave.

I then got my “words to keep” book off the bookshelf, given to me by my friend Louise. It is a beautiful book, handmade paper covered in a green velvet with an embroidered spine in smoky golds and reds, I just love it. She gave it to me just before Christmas 1999 in Sydney after she had recently visted New Zealand. I open it to find she has put two poems in the front to get me started, the first of which is one from Sam Hunt “At Castor Bay”. I am humbled at this circle being completed.

Sam Hunt 1

Sam Hunt 2

I am feeling a little emotional and quiet today, I don’t know why. Mia turns three tomorrow and I don’t really feel prepared, that seems to be weighing on me a little. There are not enough hours in the day. I envy Sam Hunt for his moments of reflection, often, it seems, sitting in a jetty. The whole reason I am here with this blog is to catch those moments somehow, but I often feel like time is running away on me.

Excerpt from ” For the Taking” by Sam Hunt

I was sitting on the jetty thinking

the reason I was born –

that any of us has ever been –

is all in time with the tide.

And that it’s ours, ours for the taking.

Mia now sits across my knee sucking her thumb and wondering about sleep… maybe I’m not so far away from where I was hoping to be.


About little minx

It's a rainy day and in an attempt to slow down and appreciate the little things I have started a blog
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