მწვანე კონცხი ii

long winding ways
concrete walls and inclines so grown over
with moss and ivy and trees their shapes blur
the ocean is corrosive
warped metal and mineral deposits
you can step no closer to the edge of things than here
the way salt simmers upon the lips
the deafening gleam that seems to come off the sea
a vapor wisping off cold waters; hot sun
confusion
drivers arguing in narrow streets
reversing, turning, reversing
ships turning slowly on the horizon
trains calling
a low shake heard for miles
shifting cumbersomely, graceful only by speed
flashing colors through the leaves
red and blue and white
gray and yellow and green
growing up on the coast
aging concrete, water streaks
pipes strewn across the path like branches
great trunks spearing from the ground
corroding outwards

radio towers on distant hills