‘King Tide’ by Dean Buchanan
The Tranz New Zealand panzers lay waste to the mangroves
In an already throttled harbour
In the mangled remains
A heron two pukeko wander through their decimated village
Two crew from the tiger
Clang and probe at their muddied tracks for jammed rocks
With long metal bars
The roar of the machines
The violet haze
The scent of diesel
The shout of orders
Goodbye Pollen Island.
© Copyright 2015, Dean Buchanan.
Dean gave up alcohol. He painted. He cycled, he walked the bush trails of the Waitakeres, he climbed mountains. He painted. The same punishing regime of work and exercise is maintained today, up well before dawn, painting in his studio down the bush path from his house, cycling, climbing, and always more painting. Dean has found his unique voice, his unique vision of the world around him and now as ever he seeks only to paint it.