Las Terrenas

Magritte clouds glide over Everton-dark sea,
hastened by gusts that sway
coconut palms from their roots
while waves and waxed moon
deliver sound and light.

Fine sand rises from the beach,
tablefuls of windy Eurobourgeois
scuttle for sanctuary indoors, where
uninvited muzakicians purloin their attention.
They do not see the trees burning across the bay.

Bryan Murphy is a translator who currently lives and works in Turin, Italy. His own words have recently appeared in The Hiss Quarterly, The View From Here, Transparent Words and The Camel Saloon.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.