The night refills itself.
Limestone drops to the sea
that varies blue all day
between capes that curve
like a lover’s arms
to cherish tranquil waters.
Here on a stone bench
we can see the darkening
bay, its almost-still
soft skin. This morning
we drove among rock
villages and orchards
to visit Matisse's Chapel
with its carnal blues
and yellows. Underneath
our room an olive's
roots draw virgin oil
from the earth's body,
surging upward to leaves
silvery green and dark.
After siesta we throbbed
with the olive's thrust
and our bodies floated
as buoyant as the sea
that rolls inside us
tonight. Our joyous
flesh sighs, every cell
breathing gaily, alert
to storeys of pastel
stucco with tile roofs
and filigreed balconies,