April 25, 2015 § 2 Comments
Here I am lying on a beach a long way from home, unseeing and unseen, hearing the gentle lap of small waves, the scrunch of mournful stepping and doleful talk. I remember other sounds. The hum of city traffic, spiked with claxons, spiked with shouts, the clink and chink of meal time conversation, the whisper of my name on another’s breath. Two thousand dollars of hope in my pocket all emptied now, each one falling into Poseidon’s purse, not for a better life just a safe one, and here I am anyway, bathing in a four star tourist’s place, zipped up in my black plastic shroud, unseeing and unseen.
(in memorium, up to 1600 people have drowned in the Mediterranean so far this year in their efforts to make landfall in Europe)