Here In Winter Recalling Adriatic Summers

Olive branch
Over the Adriatic they are
Waiting
For doves to bring them
To land.

It is
Winter, tho'
But any
Dove not
Snow bound
By cold and dog
Are
Clamping on
Holly
Leaf:

If floods carved out the Mediterranean
And climate colored
Warm browns diluted reds
Olive greens
Well it was
Not all for loss. Underneath:
Blue-eye
And the
Trees shedding
In Sicily

But here
In winter not much is
Blue but postcards and cut
Diamonds from the depths
Of South America. The
Eaves pf wooden farmhouses
Packed with
Shuddering doves(dreaming of Italy?)Burning
Holly and
Yew singing the
Old Songs in another
Language

Night
Over islands
Is as dark
As any-place
Despite sea and
Summer: here night
Is punctured clear
Baying dogs.

All the currents of warmth among the unlidded
Eye of sea rushes forward
To land columbine-white velvet birds roosting
In nests
Of olive branch

For something,
After all…

Soft
Shower
Blue