Ata marie, good morning Kindlingers <3

This may be the last proper issue of The Kindling for 2025 🥹

I was the featured poet in a zine of blackout poetry published by The Open Book second-hand bookshop this month! If you’re in Auckland, they’re selling copies for $5.

By chance both pieces in this month’s issue are about mountains. Though considering Auckland has more than fifty volcanic cones in its field, maybe these pieces were simply waiting to be written.

I have a few things lined up for publication which I can’t wait to show you! I’ll share them with you as soon as I have them :)

In passing she mentions that ‘berg’
means mountain
and all I can think of are icebergs

She meant in the name — last names
Sandberg, Bergman, Rothberg
sand mountain, from the mountain, red mountain

But all I can see are mountains
of ice suspended in a salt solution

At the base of the maunga, Keri closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

‘One more time.’ She says. She’s said it three times this year. Pulling on her sneakers at the front door and tucking her hair into a cap before anyone could ask where she was going.

She’s lived in the shadow of this maunga almost all her life – she can barely recall a week she hadn’t walked to its summit. After her diagnosis she’d driven straight here and run all the way to the top.

When her chance of survival condensed to zero, she’d sat on the bench at the top of that maunga and watched the sun arc into the horizon – the sky had burnt orange, to pink, to purple.

Keri had become precious, like a rare jewel. Kept in people’s pockets for safe keeping and whispered about. Nothing had changed for her, though. Without the treatment she would’ve been none the wiser of her imminent death. So, when no one was looking, she stole herself away to walk up her maunga.

Behind her eyelids, Keri can see the doctor’s face from the last appointment. You don’t have much longer now. You’ve been lucky so far, but I’d make sure your affairs were in order. He meant it as a kindness, but Keri had put her affairs in order six months ago. All that was left now was goodbyes.

Keri opens her eyes and starts her slow progress up the mountain. The track is well-maintained, and the bush keeps the sun off her neck for the first half of the climb.

Every couple of minutes she pauses to catch her breath and waits for the dizziness to subside. When she gets to the clearing, Keri perches herself on the side of a boulder and sips from her water bottle. As she’s opening a muesli bar a young blonde woman emerges from the bush track.

Keri can see she’s out of breath and how she tries to hide it.

‘Beautiful day for it!’ Keri calls out.

‘Yeah, hot though,’ the woman replies looking for a place to sit.

‘It is a bit,’ Keri concedes. She places a hand on her chest. ‘Keri.’

The woman does the same. ‘Xanthe.’

‘Xanthe, sit here. I’m just about to leave.’

‘Thanks,’ she takes Keri’s offer without question. ‘You heading back down?’

‘Oh, no. I haven’t been to the top yet. You been up this maunga before?’

Xanthe smiles shyly. ‘Oh, no this is my first hike in ages.’ She takes a pastel pink drink bottle from her bag and drinks. A thin line of water runs down her chin, and she wipes it with the back of her hand.

‘You’re going to love the view from the top. You can see all the way out past Rangitoto.’ Keri beams at Xanthe, though Xanthe doesn’t return her smile.

‘Ah, I wasn’t going to go to the top… Well, I was, but—’

‘What!’ Keri cuts her off. ‘If I’m going to the top with terminal cancer, you’re coming with me.’ She had learnt early on that it was best not to tiptoe around cancer – it certainly hadn’t tiptoed around Keri. ‘Come on, up!’

Xanthe fumbles to put her bottle away and stands to join Keri. She tilts her head back to look at the summit.

‘Not to worry, Xanthe. You’re lucky I’m sick ’cause it’s slowed me down.’ And she takes off before Xanthe can think of an excuse.

They talk about Keri’s work as a primary school teacher. Keri tells Xanthe that if it’s possible to miss things in the place she’s headed to, she’ll miss her students the most. She’s always had a way with children that most teachers don’t. Children only ever want to please, and Keri had always been so proud of her students. Keri dabs at her eyes and Xanthe lifts her hand to console her but thinks better of it.

She wishes she’d had a Keri at her school. Xanthe tells her about the kids in her class. How they’d bullied her for years, the way her teachers had pretended not to hear it.

Keri bites her lip. ‘You wonder why some people become teachers.’

‘That’s actually why I went for a hike – because of the bullying. They used to— ugh it’s horrible.’ Xanthe takes a breath. ‘They used to say I was too fat to walk uphill, that I’d just roll down it.’ She scoffs. ‘People used to run ahead of me because they actually thought I’d fall backwards and squash them or something.’

They pause to give Keri a breather and then it’s Xanthe’s turn to wipe her eyes. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump that on you. I might head back down. I’ll come back another day.’

Keri looks at her. ‘Oh yeah, me too. Let’s go back.’

Xanthe’s mouth opens. ‘But— This might be your last chance to walk your maunga. Don’t you want to see Rangitoto?’

‘Nah, I’ve seen it heaps of times. Come on, let’s go.’ Keri turns to walk back down.

‘Keri, no!’ Xanthe grabs Keri’s arm and points behind them. ‘We’re going this way.’

‘Are we? Okay, that’s what I thought we were doing.’ She gives Xanthe’s hand a squeeze as she passes and Xanthe sighs.

‘I knew you were going to do that.’

‘Works every time.’ Keri laughs and they continue their slow climb.

‘I can see the bench!’ Xanthe calls back to Keri. She turns and doubles back to join her on the final stretch of their ascent.

‘Here, love, take my phone and film me when I reach the top.’ She pats her pockets and comes up empty-handed. ‘Darn, it’s in the car.’

‘I’ll send it to you,’ Xanthe pulls out her phone and starts walking backwards to record her.

The sun sits heavy in the sky and has likely burnt the tops of their ears and shoulders. Xanthe couldn’t care less, today is about Keri.

How long had it been since they’d met in the clearing? Hours? Years? Xanthe can’t believe that she’d convinced herself to go back early when she’d stumbled upon Keri on that rock. Going at Keri’s pace had made it so easy. She’d distracted her by asking about family and music and travel and movies.

Keri pauses and closes her eyes. Xanthe stops the video and waits for the dizzy spell to pass.

She starts the recording. ‘One small step for Keri.’

‘One giant fuck you to cancer!’ Keri finishes lifting her hands to the sky and basking in the sunlight as the wind whips at her shirt. In the video, Xanthe captures Rangitoto sitting in the harbour in the distance.

Keri takes the phone and starts filming Xanthe. ‘Xanthe made it to the top! Her first maunga!’

Xanthe beams despite herself feeling tears in her eyes. Behind the phone Keri’s crying too.

‘You did it. You did it.’ And wraps Xanthe in a hug.

The video stops and Xanthe can’t stop crying. Her mum knocks on her bedroom door and pokes her head in. ‘Ready to go, hon?’

Xanthe locks her phone, puts her shoes on and stands in front of the mirror. Tear tracks mark her cheeks. She brushes her hands down the front of her dress. Fuck cancer she thinks.