Poems from Sardinia

No boundaries

We sail in a plastic ship

through white seas.

Each of us has our own horizon,

our own limits.

But in a few short hours

we will leave the clouds behind,

ground our feet,

and remember that as humans

we accept no boundaries.

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The hiking guide says…

The hiking guide says

“It is the time of the love.”

The flowers know it;

put on their showiest frocks

to attract buzzing suitors.

Wild boar and mouflon know it

and will attack to protect

their conquered possessions.

The walkers are past their springtime.

They take care not to tread

on orchid hope,

and learn tactics

to protect themselves

from the attack of love.

Marmora

We climbed for the sunset,

for the firelight and rubies

that escaped a cloud prison

and slid behind mountains.

We were given red wine

from this land of volcanoes,

pecorino and peppers

and freshly-brewed coffee.

We walked down in starlight,

with lighthouse headtorches,

and the sound of bad singing

and the rhythm of boots.

We climbed for the sunset,

found photos and friendship

that slid behind caution

and turned into song.

Mauro

Mauro is the man who set us free.

He met us at the airport

and took us to the sea

and set us hiking.

We know little of his biking

or his environmental degree,

but his tour guide skills and knowledge

are definitely to our liking.

And now it's time to say goodbye,

and unwillingly to go and fly –

and Mauro’s here again,

the most reliable of men!

With him to guide our tour,

we’ll be back again, for sure.