Menorca (poem) | John Coyne (Ethiopia)
So, John, here I am, back from the Olympics and trying my best to settle in, and with your poem…
John writes —
MENORCA
From the red tile terrace
of the Port Mahón Hotel
I watch the sun touch Spain.
The harbor water is prickly white
a painting by Matisse.
Boats glide against the tide
and disappear in dawn.
Menorca, mucky with heat, wakes
to the roar of Vespinos, and
English tourists breakfasting.
I walk to town in the shade
of whitewashed walls.
At the Plaça Reial I order café
con leche, a sugary Ensaimada,
and read yesterday’s news.
The English follow, crowding
the cobblestones, crowding
me to the sea.
In Playa de Son Bou,
under a thatched roof
I drink another cerveza and
closely watch topless Germans.
I swim to sea, float
beneath an empty sky.
It is August in the Balearics.
But I am safe from Vespinos,
tourists, and yesterday’s news.
Time has stopped at Barcelona.
Aaaah! another good poem. But I’m envious; I want to be there.
59 years and the love affair continues!
How true, Phil
Menorca is clearly still an inspiration. Thanks for the word picture and the other one too.
Menorca is clearly still an inspiration. Thanks for the word picture and the other one too.
How great to read John’s poems! Thank you.
Extraordinary poem and should be flagged by poetry sources
So, John, here I am, back from the Olympics and trying my best to settle in, and with your poem I’m ready to leave for Menorca. But, I say that every time I learn a bit more about the island from you. It’s a beautiful poem.