I turn south at the isthmus
and move into the fog-laden peninsula
as I approach
scavenging rooks rise
from roadkill carcass
trees grasp overhead as
the road clambers onto the ridge
the curlews call from below
along the rock-strewn shoreline
while in single road villages
fuchsias flower on flat-topped walls
sparrow crowds cling
feeding on pampas seed
and when they are no more
beside the white pillar gate posts
marshmallow roses bathe
in Virginia creeper claret.
This poem I published in “Scissors, Paper, Shadow, Stone” a collection of prose and poetry from Broomspring Writers in 2012
