Elegy for Ilinca


Ilinca awake:
dawn breaks with ceremony
on a dry island


morning at the mill:
charmed children on the rooftop
reach out for ripe figs


your sandcastle hands
warm up the winter music
of Chopin in Spain


terracotta urn,
bright orange hat: vivacious
vessels of dark dreams


midday siesta
replenishes Ilinca
de la Molina


sundial shadow
marches round the milltower
marking the hours


Ilinca at sea:
bald Aphrodite rises
flawless from the foam


Mallorca sunset:
shade seeps into the courtyard
and the mill falls still


the mind's smooth as glass
but the body cannot shake
this thistle that clings


barefooted, clearheaded,
dancing on the starry roof:
Ilinca alight

© Helen Sword 2007