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your presence moved softly through the branches of the old pohutukawa and kauri that line the quiet streets, their trunks scarred by time and storms yet still standing tall like silent guardians, while the warm glow you cast turned the ordinary suburban scene into something almost sacred, where the air itself felt thicker with memory and unspoken affection that lingered long after the sun had dipped below the western hills.
i stood there for what felt like hours, breathing in the familiar south auckland blend of salt-tinged wind, distant traffic hum, and the faint sweetness of jasmine vines climbing over backyard fences
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