Clare Harvey

Mediterranean Noon

On balconies,
discarded towels steam,
Swallows-
cyan-bellied in refracted
light
Skim the pool like
small sorrows
half forgotten:
Reminding us how far
we are from home.
Tipsy geraniums tumble
down clay amphora,
drunk on endless sky
so clear, so high,
There are no clouds
to measure by.
Cicadas haunt the
oleander trees with
ceaseless zitherings,
And pannier-kneed, the bees
drone on remorselessly.
We puzzled at a sadness
in the noon, and
In a blink,
a lizard shuns the sun
to slot itself in
terra-cotta shade.