TANGIWAI (in memory of KA949)

Christmas shattered
in mud and twisted steel

drowned voices lost
among the river stones

shriek of iron
and a train whistle

blowing, blowing

This place on the Whangaehu River was prophetically named – Tangiwai has the meaning of weeping waters – and on Christmas Eve 1953 a rim of Ruapehu’s crater gave way, releasing a lahar of mud, rocks and water down the river, just as the Wellington to Auckland night express was approaching.  There were heroic efforts to stop the train before it reached the bridge where the lahar had washed away one pier, but in vain.  Many of those on the train were heading home for Christmas, and over the following days searchers found mud-soaked presents and toys among the twisted wreckage and bodies.  Four of the carriages were destroyed in the torrent.  151 passengers and crew died.


Poetry day here in New Zealand yesterday, and last night we went to a reading by Bill Manhire and Glen Colquhoun, fundraising for a statue of one of our local New Zealand poets, James K Baxter.  Packed-out venue and totally enjoyable.

One of James K Baxter’s poems that I have always loved:


Alone we are born
and die alone:
Yet see the red-gold cirrus
Over snow-mountain shine.

Upon the upland road
Ride easy, stranger:
Surrender to the sky
Your heart of anger.

…and an ever loyal Rod reading my poetry book outside Paige’s bookshop.