Isola Bela

The skull-like villa lost
in a garden of dreams,
so seem the isle’s cimitero:
here Triton, there a unicorn.
Not even the help stay over.
Across the lake, a mountain
redoubt once stood that was sold
brick by brick. From the last ferry,
I watch some lizards scoot across
the flagstone walks and then
race up the railings eager
to catch the setting sun.

The Wider View

Murren, Switzerland

All summer, the bees
and butterflies chased
the wildflowers
slow bloom further
and further up
the slope to the edge
of the glacier
where last night’s freeze
yielded this morning’s
stunned stillness, a weakness
that lingered till mid-day.
They know the lure
of pollen. Freighted,
yet eager still,
theirs a stumbling now
from blossom to blossom,
wings barely strong
enough; wind sharp, cold.