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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=570724" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Road To Lovina</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">descending <br>from the misted island apex</div><div style="margin:10px 0">of a garish golf club<br>resort</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the mountains slope seaward<br>in second gear</div><div style="margin:10px 0">through monkey<br>territory</div><div style="margin:10px 0">past the poorer of the poor<br>on the arid karst</div><div style="margin:10px 0">past rainforest <br>artist retreats</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and down the valley <br>through the clove hamlets</div><div style="margin:10px 0">siesta<br>on mattresses of drying cloves</div><div style="margin:10px 0">we blend our heads<br>with harvest buds</div><div style="margin:10px 0">in a documentary<br>of the clove</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and every smile<br>to greet our drive</div><div style="margin:10px 0">a frivolous after-school<br>atmosphere</div><div style="margin:10px 0">of kids <br>all arms and flirting</div><div style="margin:10px 0">going home<br>slow as tropical plants</div><div style="margin:10px 0">compacted into Dutch <br>economies of space</div><div style="margin:10px 0">picket fence<br>clove-stained sarongs dry</div><div style="margin:10px 0">a breezy<br>ignorance of history</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘behind’ us now<br>dormant volcano</div><div style="margin:10px 0">kept sleepy with prayer and<br>animal sacrifice</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the road goes on<br>to inter-island seas</div><div style="margin:10px 0">where the blood and ash<br>of speechless times </div><div style="margin:10px 0">are purged<br>with cloves</div><div style="margin:10px 0">to feed the coral<br>in its turquoise sea</div><div style="margin:10px 0">blooming without bitterness<br>lurid shallows</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and dark up welling<br>as the shelf drops off</div><div style="margin:10px 0">towards such depths<br>the mountain can’t imagine</div><div style="margin:10px 0">under its fragrant canopy<br>medicinal levels</div><div style="margin:10px 0">of easy questions<br>asking why </div><div style="margin:10px 0">why the sharks<br>rise up sometimes</div><div style="margin:10px 0">to terrorise the bright<br>green light</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and we know that cloves<br>can’t answer that</div><div style="margin:10px 0">nor the shady school<br>of rural thought we thought</div><div style="margin:10px 0">we’d found again<br>like a promise to return</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Adam+Aitken">Adam Aitken</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=570724" data-title="Road To Lovina de Adam Aitken" data-description="descending 
from the misted island apex

of a garish golf club
resort

the mountains slope seaward
in second gear

through monkey
territory

past the poorer of the poor
on the arid karst

past rainforest 
artist retreats

and down the valley 
thro..."></div>
</div>
</div>