It's Still Life

16 July: A Cadralor Poem

I.
River Po flows sand on sand.
It’s merely, if that, a trickle.

II.
Liguria’s crescent cups Portofino.
Air scented with sea and cactus.

III.
Cannes is a slow progress
against a doubled down sun.
Swallows sweep the sunset.

IV.
Leonard Cohen is singing on the radio.
I order steak. Red and rare. Wine to match.

V.
And the air snaps and breaks from heat.

Poem form is a Cadralor (although not perfect). Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text. Imagery and poems ©Misky 2023.