Annotation

Wind from Egypt blows cold waves

Across slantwise these rocks and ribs.

He digs-this ragged boy with sagging

Goats to watch-a bag of corms.

Cyclamens shiver at sky-corners

Of these brown, below-ground,

Hollow, long-robbed

Pillared tombs. Two jokes. Great

Pyramids beyond this clapping difficult

Sea, then here these hollow

Also empty bourgeois sub-

Terranean tombs. These dirty sandy rooms.

FEARING INVASION

This was a Greek sea-nest of blue

And in cold wind, at dawn,

These beaches empty, tourists sleeping still,

Umbrellas quivering on their sides

Are giant hawkmoths tethered in long

Lines to the sand,

And eastward, very high, over

This not so vinous choppy sea,

Black Anatolia frowns.