Rice and Rain
In the raisin blackness,
beneath the rhododendron wall,
where warm air cools and falls –
I sprawl wine-heavy and dazed
by afternoon and fields of rice.
And the chocolate earth,
luscious as ancient cork
that floated endless seas,
cushions my careless bones
much as it holds the spreading olive
gently by a thousand tendrils,
deep within its fertile breast,
sustained by reveries of rain.
Nota bene: This is the correct version. A variation in the final line (“memories” for “reveries”) in the haiga of this poem is in error.
Port of Call and other poems. The Caliban Press, Baltimore, MD 1975.