Love faded with your tan. Leaves changed colour. Summer fell.
jagged coal-black waves
drive down the coast to Sami
were they here, the men, the heroes?
were they ever here beyond imagined memories?
Yesterday had been a day when you sweated standing still. Today the August storms arrived ten days early. Palms dipped and swayed close to parallel with the ground. Shallow roots held as the rain had not yet softened the sun-charred earth.
Vito looked up from his cards and wrinkled his nose: it will all be past in half an hour. The far horizon was lightening. Thunder was far away above the sea.
The cicadas were silent. A single bird sang. It could have been warning, it could have been sorrow but it sounded of triumph. And now the sky was close to half clear and the rain had stopped. Shorter, weaker gusts of wind switched the olive trees from green to silver to green again. They shone in the reappearing sun.
Vito looked up again. What do you expect, he said. It is summer. There are strangers. What do you expect.
from southeast horizon no air stirs
on the darkest sea clouds foam
thin cotton clings to skin
thoughts refuse to fly
palm leaves sweeping balcony walls
from the kitchen the moka gargles
green grass black shadows
head shoulders contrast outlined
till first clouds appear
your eyes are winter
winter blue in grey
yesterday they seemed the summer
golden sun that shone for me
but now your eyes are winter
I’ll sleep when the clocks change
I’ll rest when the spring is here
I’ll feel the heat of the summer’s rage
and wonder where you are
last figs of summer
black striped bursting with sugar
save thoughts for winter
early dark evening
lowering sky autumn chill
summer is over