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Ulex europaeus, gorse A hedge right here he spades a hole, digs me in. Such a fine view of the sea across to a peninsula, a marae, the blue smoke and steam curling from the ground. I put down roots immediately, humus, some ash. It is so warm; native wasps perch on my thorns, take to the yellow flowers quicker than bees. Beside the sands a Mission house stinking of piss, rot, and dung; the breeze mingles with raised voices on a hill where a scrap of coloured stuff flies until an axe takes down the pole once, twice, four

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