Night
Peace
The satisfying
Resonating
clip
clop
Donkeys on cobble stones
From the stable
Two doors down
Heading up the hill
To the olive orchards
At the end of the day
sounds
rhythmic sweeping
strokes
of a singular
twig broom
paused
clip
clop
clip
shattering silence
then
like automatic fire rounds
from a furious Greek
yelling
resonating
echoing
down the narrow laneway
startled into action
I went to the balcony
Peering over
Not wishing to be a snoop
My wizened
Black widow of a neighbour
Was yelling
God knows what?
Gesticulating madly
She was berating the owner of the donkeys
The donkeys had crapped all along her part of the street
You could now smell it
The cringing
Greyed
Leathery tanned
stooping
donkey owner
Apologising profusely
raced to the stable
immediately returning
Running up hill again
Sweating
Puffing
to sweep away the shit
nodding
at each salvo of abuse
until it was all done
the donkeys
stopping further up the hill
heads turned
with quizzical looks
what the hell is that all about??
Shaking the heads
flicking the ears
before continuing up the hill
Me
sneaking away from the carnage in the laneway
I settled back into the book
I had rented this house
In the hill side village
of Skopelos
being briefed before hand
I knew
we had the civic duty
to keep the laneway clean in front of our house
the obligations were clear
although I caused a bit of a stir
the first time I swept the laneway
the women gathering
either side of my designated section of the laneway
up and down the hill
pointing
waving
smiling
laughing
cackling among themselves
nodding
YES
YES
a MAN
sweeping the laneway
what a hoot!
I also managed to set the tongues wagging
When I went down and queued with all the women
To use the only oven in the village
To cook the evening meal
Giggles and laughter
Big smiles
I just nodded
Stupidly
Shuffling forward in the queue
Up to the oven
Paying the baker
waiting
Then walking up the hill
The Greek version of take away
The scent of the evening meal
Wafting over my shoulder
Anointing the laneways
Today
before the donkey incident
I was reading
Resting up
as I had a long night ahead of me
sitting in the speckled shade one afternoon
in the beach side restaurant at Stafilos
I had accepted the offer to go out squid fishing tonight
the generosity of the village people
was unending
not knowing what to expect
a bit apprehensive
I caught the last bus at dusk
Bumping over the gravel
Dusty
corrugated road
Down the steep hill
The bus sliding
shaking to a halt
the brakes finally biting
at the restaurant in Stafilos
there was no time table
so I waited
eating
drinking
scribbling verses
black waters run
as time shudders
sifting
swaying
scattered
sea sways
gilding peaks
dimensioning waves
talking to the owner
as I was early
to early for patrons
white
lit lace
announces water’s edge
the moon rose
molten
silvered phallus
undulates
corrugates
ejaculates
moons end
the retsina bottle looking forlorn
I comforted it with repeated use
in solemn silence
cloaked in heavens mantle
we wait
silhouetted
the sound of the approaching boat
running ahead
fine
sanded timber
slides
heralding shore
paying
limping
one foot then the other
rolling up my pants
down the beach
towards the waving shadow play of greeting
hands
grasp splintered runs
gritted feet
splash night
scatter
phosphorescent lights
greetings
as calloused
hands greet
moon smiles
dancing eyes
taking my side of the small boat
pushing out into the night
as
boat dips
boat slides
back
to the cradle of the sea
the blackness
that is the one
knowing
a pathetic amount of Greek
enough to get me by the introduction
conversation stopped
in smiles and nods
slow
slowly
water courses
scenes move
water peels
as muffled wheels turn
pushing swirling
cutting silence
black, black
hunched figures
masses make
the silences were palpable
awkward initially
until I started to relax into it
talk speak
words leap
through shadowy scenes
where heaven and the earth meet
silence
suddenly stuned
leadens time
he cuts the motor
as scenes glide
then he scurried along the boat
setting the stage
lights
lights
hammer 1, 2, 3
piercing vision cones
punch the depths
nailing reality
here
here
here
hanging off frames
the lights
bringing to life the tools of trade
multiple lines, drums
as the lights
buzz
hum the word
the word
is NOW
lines thrust towards me
I ape his castings
As quickly as I can
Lines spin
Silken threads
Gut runs
Hands clinch
Lure springs
Bouncing
Deaths dance
No sooner had we reached the depth
pulling in the spinners
Lines taunt
Water zips
Hands cut
Hands move
Quickly move
Move quickly
Darts
Smarts
Pulls bloody pulls
As to the light
Draws
With multiple hooks on each line
The hits were frenzied
As we pulled in the laden lines
Winged creatures
Break white water white
Spit
Squirm
Squeal
Tossed wreathing
Wreathing
Until the end
Each line was carrying 3 or 4 large squids
The line cutting into my hands
They were screaming
A disturbing shrill
Grabbing the wreathing bodies
Throwing them into the drums
In a panic
They were on
Then again
As gut runs
Lure springs
Wild frenzied arms strain
Unused to the continual
Casting, pulling of the lines
Watching my silent mentor out of the corner of my eye
Trying to do my part
Hairs
Trap work’s tears
Jewels of satisfied delight
Set free
They run
Suddenly run
Salt spray and sweat
Stinging my eyes
Then I noticed
These winged creatures
Following their tortured brethren
To the surface
You could see them
Rolling and looking directly at you
Then diving back into the depths
Companions in life
Witnesses in death
Rise
Pause
Return
To the depths of the abyss
Taunting anglers bold
Celestial lights
Daze
Dazzle
And devour
Life’s loves
Then as quickly as it started
It just stopped
They knew
We knew
The run was over
It just stopped
Lights blink
As darkness speaks
Black
Black
Alien figures bend
Talk descends
Putt putt
Calls nights end
My eyes taking time to adjust
To the collapse into night
All I could see was the beaming smiles
GOOD! GOOD!
The gleaming bins full
Over flowing
With
Wreathing
slithering
silvery bodies
reflecting the moon light
slowly suffocating
as shadow plays
witness life’s wake
all is black
all is one
infinity
drifts on
and on
The silence descended again
The adrenalin seeping away
Into a satisfied tiredness
Dropping me on the beach
A pumping hand shake of thanks
smiles
Turning
I walked back to the village
Taking the direct route
through the olive groves
On an absolutely clear
Moonlight night
Walking up hill at 3 in the morning
The trees
Casting a lace of figured light
Smiling to myself
Reflecting on this
ancient ritual
of the fisherman
a simple
profound
connectedness
a wonderful peace