I walked from the balcony to the bedroom,
sleepwalked from the summer to midwinter;
changes became as cold as ice.
I walked from the balcony to the bedroom,
sleepwalked from the summer to midwinter;
changes became as cold as ice.
palms, bougainvillea
sun rises behind mountains
the sea a mirror
Zinzulusa 22 September 2021
clouds roll across the sun
in time with the crash of the waves
as we pick up towels and run for the car
the sky cries red-dust raindrops and we laugh
Why did you set yourself the task of pushing the rock up the slope I asked.
He turned to look at me and released his grasp. The stone slid on the grass, picked up speed and sped past.
He frowned and blinked fast and set off down the hill again.
You’re not the first to ask, he said, and you won’t be the last.
fireworks shook rolling thunder to life
as the moon rose and forked lightning fell
street performers drew expectant crowds
so many stories to hear and to tell
The benches in the new square are made of old marble. Children trace their fingers across eroded inscriptions and call out random letters and words. Cars double circle the square, prayers for a parking space unheard at this hour.
The yellow dog in the blackest shade of the trees lifts its head as if to question life, shakes its ears loose and lays down again, one rear paw twitching. It does not move when the rain starts; it knows its place is dry. Parents grasp children and run through the lines of cars, pressing their backs against the walls and windows of shops, sheltering below the mock-baroque balconies.
As street vendors circle the square with hastily procured umbrellas, the rain suddenly stops. Pavements steam and waiters wipe tables. The dog lifts its head again.
Lecce, 19 September 2021
Silkie outgrew the pond.
Once again, under cover both of night and of the tarpaulin over the wheelbarrow, we bumped him down to the sloping sand.
Clouds opened the sky and a grey head appeared in the black mirror waves.
Silkie swam towards the moon, not looking back this time.
every year is shorter
than those which went before
as the world turns and
returns to tomorrow
I await you golden
breath held in slow heat