Road by the Sea
The dusty pink bloom of salt cedars,
tamarisk mousse, billowing
like cotton-waste across the sandy margins.
In this heat one intake of breath might choke us.
A dark pomegranate bush
lit with a few flaming flowers
like stiff scarlet ribbons.
Who would imagine its autumn grenades,
leathery globes packed with juice-garnets?
And here and there a blood-sprinkle of poppies,
gelincikler, small Turkish bride-flowers
with their red paper skirts, their brave fragility.
Copyright © Imogen Forster 2013
I am a translator, mainly of art history and French fiction. I also work in Italian, Spanish and Catalan. Details of my work can be found at www.imogenforsterassociates.co.uk. I publish poems on-line, and tweet a lot of haiku.