The water is pleated with silver,
a breathless quiver on its smooth fabric
the only mark of the life below.

From afar the oblique coastline glimmers,
upturned fans of the Mediterranean pines
blooming like dark explosions.

My boat is distant,
its narrow bed filled with holes.

©  

Federica Santini lives in Atlanta and teaches at Kennesaw State University. She holds an MA from the University of Siena, Italy, and a PhD from UCLA. She is the author or editor of four volumes on poetics and her poetry has been published in numerous journals in North America and Europe.