A little poem I wrote a while ago.

 

Ancient walls the canvasses

for shafts of light

and beams of sound.

 

Streets leading you

(corks under the table when necessary)

and chasing around corners.

 

Wine by the glass

more wine?

Also olive oil.

 

Naked eyes and also through a screen

sunsets witnessed and ignored.

Searching (probably for a bathroom.)

 

Have you tried the rabbit?

The mussels are good too.

Buses and horses past tables on the pavement.

 

Shrines to the fallen light the way

justice will not be silenced

they will be remembered.

 

Talk more than skin deep

listening for a while too.

Where is Malta again?

 

I’m ready for some more travelling.