clatter of stones and light water,
aquamarine peace before pine-hidden mountains,
the bracing air, a restorative tonic;
we follow cobblestones, empty walnut trees
and iced-over puddles into the old town.
a sticky table awaits, spilled with salt, adorned
with a small silvery bowl of finely grated garlic
drowned in red wine vinegar;
to learn to delight in its pickled crunch,
to spoon this life into warming platefuls
of bob chorba – thick, hot bean soup –
and each visit, to savour more;
this is our new language.

©  

Lisa Reily is a former literacy consultant, dance director and teacher from Australia. Her poetry has been published in several journals, such as Amaryllis, The High Window, London Grip, Panoplyzine, Channel, HCE Magazine, and The Fenland Reed. You can find Lisa at lisareily.wordpress.com