i have seen the goats nibbling on me, and the tan skin glistening with mediterranean sea that surrounds me, i grow perfect red and orange tomatoes, green arugula, and lemons, never to be forgotten, my sun is famous, kids even drink it with a straw, i’ve changed since the roman days when tiberius used to throw unfortunates from my steep rocky cliffs, now yachts undulate near my shores, celebrities film me with their phones, visit me in july and august, i am the mastic trees, bougainvilla, the bees, and cicadas, i am shady pathways through woods, and luxury hotels, i am the smell of grilled octopus and aperol spritz, summer in the square, i hear it all, dutch, spanish, italian, german, english, arabic, french, tamil, russian, swedish, i am the world on an island, but when winter comes i hibernate like a bear, rain, fog, and wind engulf me, daylight disappears in the afternoon, the caprese families stay on me, i hear their children, watch them walk to church on sundays, they slumber softly at night, i bless them all.
Tag: Nature
La Poesia Street Art: Rome
Between Napoli & Roma
Mediterranean Capri
Via Tragara
Cloud Portrait
A Rattlesnake Story
the rattlesnake doesn’t care, has heard the stories about sucking out venom and survival, how the young can’t control the release of poison, sun is out, languid, or perhaps curled up as if, but no, the rattlesnake doesn’t care, sits there on the trail, the protagonist in your story, the one where you fear the fangs, as if that would actually happen, and it could, you claim, show everyone the video of that one man, his hand swollen, they are dangerous, see, i told you, but the rattlesnake doesn’t care, the ground is just the ground, dirt, rocks, summer heat on hillside home, your story is just your story, the rattlesnake doesn’t care, slithers away
21st Century Greek Scholar
when studying the ancient greeks there are rules: the oracle knows, socrates questions, plato governs, and aristotle examines nature. when trying to be esoteric, mention more details: delphi, the agora, the republic, syllogism. and if that still doesn’t work, forget alexander the great’s library, dusty old books, like the histories of herodotus, instead, go to wikipedia and pretend.
George Winston: 1949-2023
when i heard that George Winston died, i realized i had no one to tell, no one who would really understand how he transformed piano notes into snow, into darkened pine trees, into music of the winter solstice. transcendent, like time immemorial, i can still see my seventeen year-old self, not making a sound, just listening to Winston, that quiet focus, he taught me to be still, appreciate all that is.
Daniel W. Polk 