Poem (still) in the workshop
Palafrugell
(for Ordibehesht)
We camped you, Plaça Nova,
your cantinas where locals drink
by the wharf, camped you
till day bled
into your light-blue bay,
fish-boats lanterns
in the cove, everything
brine. We camped you
like anyone would
out of love, imbuing you.
And in darkness the sun left,
you switched a moon on
and led us from the crowd
to where water laps the shore
with its tongue.
2 voices:
I really like where this poem is and how it's going. I'd like to follow it through the workshop, please.
Pam,
The poem will probably be happier if you did (and me, too). Thanks.
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