In a caravan, 
just around the corner, 
your front door step — a crate — 
    avoid the broken bit, still slip. 
Here the rats migrate. 
Still working, Far North, 
stooped like a magpie 
bent on finding platinum 
    to solidify 
a family that disintegrates. 
You’re in a house bus, 
not big enough 
for the kids. 
    It wasn’t five years ago 
but dreams change. 
Mum creates a lawn, 
wipes the surfaces 
    Always trying to get something 
to come up clean. 


They came while he was visiting a friend, 
who had a hiding place. 
A false bottom, in a bathroom vanity. 
Nine in a 6 x 6 hole. 
Three couldn’t bear it after three days, shot too. 
So he stayed another six days. 
There was something terrifying about his story. 
It wasn’t in a book. 
No photos of his family. 
Not one. 
When we were in India, 
(his son must’ve explained the Svastika) 
he’d say, ’Another beautiful day!‘ 
And rub his hands in anticipation. 
Then go for a walk, 
without a hat. 


Kelly Malone is currently a teacher of English at an Auckland secondary school. She is delighted Moishe (who has since past away) now has his story in a ‘book’. Kelly also wants to acknowledge the support of her family.