Bill Wyatt: ANCESTRAL VOICES ON KOS

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Arrived at apartments in the early hours of the morning. A meteor flew across the balcony & gone in the blink of an eye. Sky glittering with stars, Orion my neighbour. Distant hoot of an owl.

Waiting for the moon –

clouds drift by like orphans

who banish my sorrows

Up early for breakfast, a short walk across the main street of Tigaki, once a small fishing village. Flamingoes winter here in small numbers. Sometimes white storks & pelicans drop in, on their way to Northern Turkey & Eastern Europe. October, the month when the festival of Thesmophorica is celebrated. Held in honour of Demeter & only attended by women, to assure the fertility of the fields.

Back at Tigaki for the evening meal.

Impromptu dance

to Zorba the Greek – waiters

spring into autumn

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October's full moon –

from the taverna, 'doo-wop'

mingles with cicadas

Mosqitoes a problem. After an evening of wining & dining, I'm in no fit state to combat them. Defenceless, when I retire to bed, straight into the arms of sleep & Demeter.In the morning wake up to many lovebites.

As an offering

to this floating world – my blood

accepts the mosquito

Just outside the hotel found several plants new to me. On looking them up, turned out to be Bladder Hibiscus. Pale, large solitary flowers, yellow with dark blue purple centres, opening only in the mornings. A native of Asia.

Just like an autumn leaf

that has lived its day – soft breeze

whirls me away

(after Theocritus)

Theocritus, the Sicilian and bucolic poet lived on Kos for a while. He wrote one of his most ambitious poems here, the idyll which we know of as The Harvest Home. He describes the Koan countryside, with its singing linnets, & larks, & bees that loitered above fresh flowing streams. Where 'elms & black poplars make a shady place there,/ its green freshness roofed in by unkept leaves.'

cicadas welcome

in the evening twilight

ancestral voices

by Bill Wyatt
Bexhill-on-Sea, Sussex, England