for Quala The turquoise sea is a trickster - Its luscious skin, easy on the eyes. Dappled light to lull a confidence - all is well in the world. Soft lapping to lull my ears - overlook the moans of bones that drift down and down out of mind. The trickster uses a southern wind to bait my attention. I watch it pitch up a hem, bellow a spinnaker; press the fluid body to a low chop. I swoon at pilot whales and bottlenoses who follow the blue boats of Moroccan men. They fish with hand lines – drag enormous tuna into their hulls. I am adrift on the picturesque nature of life here, enamored with a deep heritage - people, land and sea. The uplifted limestone filled with fossils, fortified walls, armored casemates share another view. The Gibraltar coastline is a portrait of conquest. Europe has been swallowing Africa for eons. Perhaps the discreet pace of tectonics and a penchant for forgetfulness make it unremarkable.
Kinetic Poetry - Subject to change without warning.