Julian Stannard
ii
Each village built like a fort
to have a wide view of the sea
each village self-contained
with a spire to raise the eyes
olive trees to provide a living
chat taking place in the squares
the terraces womb-like with basil.
On market days the long walk
to sell food, exchange news
weary feet may be bathed in the sea
scallywags swim out to the rocks
carved niches to provide a home
for the virgin mothers of God
the altars piquant with flowers.
When the storms come, panic
the dogs jitter like the possessed
all of us cower in our beds
first we batten down the shutters
children asleep across our knees
sometimes comfort, sometimes tears.
Tomorrow the sun will surge, surge.
Page(s) 25
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