Sun - Kings

Sun - Kings


The Aegean sleeps in sunbreath,

sparkling like a gift

to children on a beach;

splashing whales breach among the caïques

while drifting, effortless, to baked islands

harsh as truth, gentle as giants.


On shattered Santorini riders thread Vespas

along sea-shores and white-dusted heights; whores

cling tight with promises to come.

Corniche poseurs drip fool's gold,

hot as fat from ladles,

on volcanic waters, while

shirtless men thatch beach shelters

at ten euros a day.


All this time Sun-Kings play, poker-faced

in immortality;

holding plenty, knowing little.


Chris Hubbard

Chur, Switzerland



🌷 (1)


◄ Mister Eternity

The Imperfect Gardener ►


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