A year or so ago, I got snowed in at Mt Ruapehu for a few days. Every road in the area was closed, and we were trapped. The only transport was my tramping boots, and the forest turned into another world. I started doing what I should have done years ago and began to write…
Who am I?
You can call me bolt-spine, tin bone or bumpy
Crook-finger, south-paw, muddle-head or lumpy
Bits-missing, endless-teapot, coffee-addict oldie
Bed-lolling, mountain-dwelling, jut-chinned boldie
Sloppy-singer, tone-pinger, word-winger witch
Bin-chucker, spare-parts, rusty-hinge scritch
A walking wandering warbler who bruises too easily
Silly-season sensitive, party poops breezily
Black cat scratching
Escape plans hatching
Front door latching
Wilderkinder, fire-kindler, fly-away cinder,
Annoying old Linda.