Friday, July 14, 2006

B A L E A R I C
by Hugh O'Donnell (12/10/2005)

Beneath the blazing orb
he rubs
the little clump of snow –
so fresh and fragile
from far-flung forest
fringes.

Those Nordic, ivory-tipped
toes sparkle
beside the twinkling water’s
edge.

Silence – broken only by her listless
tap-tap-tappings;
a boredome I would
gladly endure

on an afternoon
oozing

away.

posted by Hugh O'Donnell @ 2:50 PM 0 comments