high on the Riviera,
I am surrounded by fragrance;
the garden is intense, disordered;
birds of paradise
violet and orange flames,
the Santa Ynez mountains
hazy in the distance.
The day is shimmering with
the purple jacaranda,
the blue and white of the harbour,
abalone boats and idle sailors on the dock,
discussing fishing laws and propositions
that measure out the boundaries of their lives;
a parasailor is pulled out to sea --
the yellow chute hovering in the distance.
Suddenly, I am in a different landscape--
the cobalt blue of the Spanish tile in the plaza,
the colours of Matisse surround me;
my emotions are becoming like the green line
that runs down the face
of the painter's wife.