Lido delle Sirene
Somewhere, in the quaint, crafted gloss
of patterned ceramiche, fried fish, and lemon gelato,
you lose yourself:
to the sun, the rocky cliffs, the coastal villages…
surrender to the pebble-strewn beaches
that burn your soles and test your balance…
to the salty brine of the ocean
as it rests on your lips…
in the corner of your eyes…
surrender to it all,
forgeting that you ever have to go back.
Forgeting that this is not reality
but only a brief and fleeting dream
along the strange curves of life’s winding course.
And isn’t life as beautiful and nauseating
as the serpentine roads along the Amalfi Coast?
Isn’t life as immeasurably sublime and untouchably majestic
as those cliffs that jut up around you?
As unforeseeable as the horizon of that sea?
And yet, one day, you do wake up—
the current of your inner tide
sweeping you back into its swell—
and you find yourself left with only the memories of lemons.
Lemons as large and mysterious as the moon, herself.
Lemons you never tasted
A promise you make to yourself, a vow you make to the moon.
Devon Gallant is the author of four collections of poetry: The Day After, the flower dress and other lines, His Inner Season, and S(tars) & M(agnets). His work has been featured in Vallum, Carousel, Bitterzoet Magazine, Misunderstandings Magazine, and elsewhere. He is the publisher of Cactus Press [cactuspress.wordpress.com] and the host of Accent Open Mic [accentseriesmontreal.wordpress.com]. He resides in Tio’tia:ke/Montreal.