Butterfly hillside
High
Diving hawks
spiralling down in loose formation
Dawn till dark
White horse on the hill, so still
So still.
Hibiscus descending,
a red scented waterfall,
White butterflies, red ones,
from flower to flower
White horse on the hill,
My beauty,
So still.
Alone on the hillside
In sunlight and tethered
Alone in the tall grass
the flowers around you.
Sea birds ride the wind
Rising hot from the meadow,
their shadows
a pattern
on the hillside below,
Their shrill cries
Songs of freedom
crisscrossed and free
On their run to the sea.
Marti Mirkin
Skyros, 5th September 2010
Marti Mirkin attended a writing holiday this summer at the Skyros Centre in Greece with Skyros Holidays. See www.skyros.com for more information. The holiday included yoga, writing, music and arts as well as the many delights of island village life.
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