I can hear you
making small holes
in the silence
rain

Hone Tuwhare
from 'Rain' in Come Rain Hail: Poems (Square One Press, 1970)

The way we say Home, meaning here or there,
it’s a well-lit word, it’s open all hours

but when we go home and turn out the light
we dream of crocuses opening

Andrew Johnston
from 'Antipodean', in Birds of Europe: Poems (Victoria University Press, 2000

and yet we dreamt      of wonderful simplicities:
fresh vegetables in a cottage garden
a geranium on a windowsill      and everything clean
We dreamt      for dreaming’s free, nothing
could stop us      of what we had been promised
of what bread without scarceness might have meant

Gerrie Fellows
from 'A Woman Absent from the Museum Muses on her Life in South Dunedin', in The Powerlines (Polygon, 2000

They love to let go and they love to get going:
they get themselves going and they let themselves go.
They let love go and they get love going:
they get others going and they let others go.
They let life go and they get life going,
they live to give love and they love to let live.

Dinah Hawken
 from 'The Tug of War', in Small Stories of Devotion (Wellington: VUP, 1991; Todmorden: Arc, 1994