Regatta
a sparkling expanse, lapping the horizon,
crinkled by the weight of torrential bright
the airborne eye, squinting,
catches sight of a flotilla,
parallel, bloodless gashes on liquid lapis,
pointy beaks gently pecking docile waves,
their wakes lengthening, then fanning,
a formation of miniature peacocks with
oversized white trains mopping the water,
all their iridescent colors washed into the
Mediterranean blue
the sails lean over lazily, a unison of
puffed-up scimitars slicing around a buoy,
slow-tattooing pristine curlicues on the sea skin,
returning to harbour and ice buckets
sprouting beaded bottles of gold
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