Ruins
       

The gods in pieces around me, and me
not quite made. Longing,
but too young to be tired
of anything. Thinking
of the tomatoes and olive oil
I ate in the evening.
The stone phallus outside me.
Wanting water all the time.
The guide book not telling me who I am.
I rub rosemary on my teeth,
pick up a white stone and throw it
as far as I can. Passion
in search of a temple. The sea
clean and direct. Goats and donkeys,
no birds. Too hot for the snakes to come out.

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Copyright © 2013 Anne Love Woodhull All rights reserved
from Night With Its Owl
Hedgerow Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission