fierce
fierce
blows the wind
across this island
off the coast of Africa
sittting on the slope of a volcano
I keep listening to the sound of things
street signs clatter to each other
empty beer cans roll noisily
through midnight streets
doors keep slamming
to make their presence known
plastic bags hiss airily
and fly away
like they never thought
they could
the ears
of the little dog that thinks
I am his master
stand at odd angles
while he is grooming himself
on my lap
warm bodies
in a blustery place
the patio chair
scrapes its way
across the tiles
inch by windy inch
my wine slushes in the glass
I share fiesta music
from half a mile a way
coming to me
in gusty fragments
and almost feel the rush
of low clouds chasing each other
under a star-studded sky
here I am
on the slope of a volcano
listening to the sounds of the world
* * *
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 9:21 AM UTC
fierce
fierce
blows the wind
across this island
off the coast of Africa
sittting on the slope of a volcano
I keep listening to the sound of things
street signs clatter to each other
empty beer cans roll noisily
through midnight streets
doors keep slamming
to make their presence known
plastic bags hiss airily
and fly away
like they never thought
they could
the ears
of the little dog that thinks
I am his master
stand at odd angles
while he is grooming himself
on my lap
warm bodies
in a blustery place
the patio chair
scrapes its way
across the tiles
inch by windy inch
my wine slushes in the glass
I share fiesta music
from half a mile a way
coming to me
in gusty fragments
and almost feel the rush
of low clouds chasing each other
under a star-studded sky
here I am
on the slope of a volcano
listening to the sounds of the world
* * *
