On the islands' soft margins
we bicycle around on tripods,
always looking for oyster shells
to get drunk from.
The people here are friendly,
waving their worn fishing nets,
like old g-strings at us,
haivng caught too many raindrops.
They grow strong and tall
bending their necks with flat
Cycladic faces, and a long bridge
to their breakwater noses.
They speak in perpetual sing-song:
Who talks to us? they say.
At night they simply fold into shadows
while dreaming of lions in Mycenae.
During the long daytime, they sway
in long conga lines, attached
to a tow rope like notes, slaves
on a musical stave.
Their beads bob up and down
to the beat of the conch shells.
Whenever I see the, I find
these spots before my eyes.
The Cyclades are a group of Greek islands in the Aegean sea. They are known as the Cyclades because they encircle the island of Delos, a holy spot to the Ancient Greeks.