Kos
We woke in a winter harbour
where a bitter wind swept the quay;
even such dawns once greeted
ships in antiquity.
Our feet became those of pilgrims,
albeit unconsciously,
seeking the springs of healing
tapped by Hippocrates.
And one road led to the mountains,
another skirted the sea,
cupped in the palms of morning,
bathed in the rosy east.
Paths may be lost in thickets
or buried under scree,
but in that shimmering daybreak
the road we walked was free.
for Romany
Ancient Harbour
© Copyright: Jena Woodhouse, 2005
Свидетельство о публикации №105022500812
Свидетельство о публикации №105022500812
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