Capri

Capri

Rocks.
Clear salt water.
A bevy of scanty suits walks past.

Young.
Three to a set.
We’re sitting with the locals on the big rocks.

Sun.
Slow lapping waves.
A lunch also gets you a change of view.

Swim.
Climb out like a lizard.
Just enough time to lounge in the sun.

Dry.
Up stares down.
Bosoms are everywhere, nobody notices.

Cliffs.
Potato cheese mush.
A chance to relax as the air dries.
A chance to relax as the world dies.

 

 

Copyright, Doug Stuber, 1995. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given, and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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