525
Alentejo
here I am
setting off in good time
paused here and there for the view
how far the hills
how weary the sun
each step a shadow cast
scramble of goat
and bramble, scrub
dust under the nails
eyes grimed
gulleys of torrent
when angry skies
and now hard summer holds
passage of wheat fields
scatter of olives
straw before the heat
almonds
pink hills
shade cast to shift
there was a rhythm of rattle along
and I was dark of it nights
time has brought me
here I am
along a little further now
white of the wall
like a church struck
generations dumb with wonder
stone to cool the centuries' hearts
and the vine
tangling past truth
to a reverie
shading friends
leaf all pointing
everything possible
like the season spilled
to kiss, to come again
you can see winter was
now the cherries
roofs sundulled, still red
olive tops white with the sky's touch
now the summer is come
there is only this season
Romans knew it
Phoenecians before
how far the hills
how weary the sun
each step a shadow following
weary climb
of the hilltop tree, alone
rooted through storms
frost struck
now baking
in its little shade cast
leaf pointing
all the blue beyond us
all the blue to come
Lovely part of the world.
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