That Night We Were Ravenous

AT THE FOOT OF A WALL My hand moves below in the bright element, turning a page. The deck chair's bleached arms, my feet bare on the flagstones: all mute, opaque as at home. Nor are the cypress, the lemon, though trimmed with bookish associations, eager to break their poses and dance. I thought sun and the island's beauties would dive into my eyes, out of my mouth in poems. Nearby, small lizards are skirting the foot of the wall: quick green marginalia, foreign script. Overhead, the Grand Prix. Burly helmeted flies come whining down the blue straightaway over the mulberry tree and smack the sun-covered house, drop flat bullets around my feet. Tiny, terrible headaches. Twiddling legs. The lizards scribble, licking them up. Green, independent flames.John Steffler is the author of 'That Night We Were Ravenous', published 2007 under ISBN 9780771082665 and ISBN 0771082665.