and fast. Others dive off the side
and fly for a moment. I observe,
soaking in scenery, as much a part
of the picture as a painter. The voices
in my ear are current and antique,
thick with accents and lush
with time. The confident authority
of poetry addicts me, and those
wet whispers brought me here.
I will walk to Vernazza,
at my own speed.
No comments:
Post a Comment