Gustaf Munch-Petersen: The Lowest Country

they herded goats

and I spread out my feet in the sun

on capo san andreae –

black-eyed, seven-year-old and smiling

the oldest came and begged for cigarettes –

when he left,

he did three somersaults

and laughed –

brown-cheeked, tear-striped

the little one came

and sighing laid five yellow flowers

at my feet

on capo san andreae –