Nudists, coconuts and Governor Hahl
When life gets tough in January

Apail has gone to walk in other faraway rains

Apail KinMATHIAS KIN

An entry to the Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

In memory of Apail Kin

In dry July of 2012 it rained suddenly
The children couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t

And divinity doesn’t seem a strong enough reason to
Emotions run high

Why this rain? Why rain on me?
Memories glow of a most good looking and well-torso fella braving the Deboma Pass

From Marelnule below in many rains to return home with bilums of tapioca and pumpkin
To feed his hungry offspring

Rainy day in SimbuIn previous rains gone, we would climb up from our bird hunting at the Wahgi,
Always him at the close rear giving me confidence I did not fall over the cliff.

These rains only seem yesterday
In the future, there will be other rains

But when Awal, Ogan and Aiwa anxiously lookout from their smoke filled door
Into the foggy afternoon rain, their hero will not be coming home 

Not in this rain nor the next
For our Apail has left us

To walk with his long gone fathers in other faraway rains

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