Dusk ~Kira Braun
A haze settles on the face of the slope;
Dusty facades rise precariously...
Bougainvillea stubbornly clings,
Blooming with bliss in the salt air
Cypress stand elegant and proud-
Amidst Olives that survive everything,
The tree signifying Death reigns supreme;
A reminder of ages that have passed by
Port of Call since Spice Route days,
Did my ancestors tread here?
What love transpired,
Beyond those walls?
The same lovers’ embrace, aeons old;
Blood mixed with the salt of man,
Skin upon skin of every shade;
‘Twas here the fabric of the world was made.