A poem about one of my favourite places in the world (written for last week’s group session on the theme of isolation)
Isola, glimpsed you in a pine tree picture frame where temptress waters swayed.
Insolare, wrapped myself in a gown of sand, took pebbles for eyes and scrub for companionship.
Solo, in your lagoons I slept, out of body, lucid dreaming of reefs where elusive beings live.
Sole, you cast memories against archival sheets and spread them across granite chambers.
Tavolara, ate the fruit of your wildfire cacti, under the influence of anima sarda.