HILARY ELFICK

Drought.

 

Dogs bark as in a seaside town
beneath a citadel once fed by merchants’ ships.
Eight bells pre-empt a cockerel’s cry.
The church remains,
fresh painted as a leading line.

Down the sharp sides of the gully, wrack dries slow,
crackling cataracts slumped by memory of water:
the fall of thyme and lavender.

Look: a cluster of pink hovering on the green surface,
a wreath thrown for a girl lost.

After heavy rain you can hear the water running.

Roxana-Monica Mîndrican

Hilary Elfick
 

Seceta

Cainii latra ca intr-un port
intr-o cetate vizitata candva de corabiile negutatorilor.
Opt clopote acopera strigatul unui cocos.
Biserica proaspat pictata
sta asemeni unei calauze.

De-a lungul albiei abrupte, algele se usuca incet
cascade zgomotoase prabusite de amintirea apei:
valul de lamaita si lavanda.

Priveste: un palc de floricele roz plutind pe suprafata verde,
o cununa pierduta aruncata unei fete.

Dupa o ploiae torentiala poti auzi apa curgand.