Ronnie Smith Poems

At six, the sun rises silently
over Punta Campanella.
Empty boats bob gently
within their mirrored fortress
...

A shrinking mirror
glinting on the pavement
in the fresh, clean sunlight.
...

Discarded.
Crushed like a leaf.
Rendered formless
by the forces of physics
...

Hot.
A mother and daughter
take a bench in the shade
and some time to recover.
...

I sat on that warm concrete step,
feeling the redness of my face.

On every one of those nights I watched,
...

On my rock
at nine hundred feet,
I see the grey veil
pulled silently across the water
...

The students crack
their noisy knuckles
in the laboratory of excellence,
drowning out the hoo haa
...

Gathering in the piazza,
like flocks of gaunt pigeons,
men of military age
from the East
...