Off the bus,
it’s all light breeze and sea birds, a bit of fish smell,
but mostly open sky
and an air than lifts you towards it.
Later on it warms up
and the whole corroding city could be gliding over the escarpment.
Things occur at a distance,
their sounds barely reach you.
Up closer, slabs of purple and orange are stretching out.
All afternoon it’s musings about writing and art
and a fierce resistance to stasis.
Although, even without homes,
the dogs are happy to let things pass.
You could decorate the houses
with handmade jewellery
or with the dates of the greatest poets.
The main thing is that it doesn’t get dark until you need it to:
huge, oblivious packs of cumulus catch on a cross
and wrap up the sun
like some kind of luminous organ
waiting for transplant into your open chest.
© Stuart Cooke
From the poet’s forthcoming collection, Opera.
Apuntes y Viages is the photographer of this gorgeous shot. Do check the photographer’s facebook page for more beautiful images: https://www.facebook.com/apuntesyviajes?fref=ts