Sea of Cyprus

Don’t summon me, don’t summon me.

I can’t withstand your briny call.

The gulls go scudding by, the boat’s entangled

in your fragrant seaweed hair.

Forgotten in the hold the urns

of fossil fruits and centuries.

Wave, you bring wise tidings

from the ages and the depths.

But I am searching for the compass

as the gulls go scudding by.

Don’t summon me, don’t summon me.