“GONE NATIVE!
must be the warm, tropic air
or the furlong scented breeze
but I can’t help it, I’ve gone native
I’m in the sea all day, and the ceremony echoes and echoes
the salt water upon my skin, dried by the sun
my salty hair, gettin saltier
my attire, just some old surf trunks
worn out, and kind of shabby
barefoot most of the time, so the soles of my feet, like leather
though goin to town, the rubber sandals come in handy
the poet’s honor, I don a light shirt not to offend the island women
I rest under palm trees for shade, and compose verse about moonlit nights,
dashing stars, the woman’s silhouette, and the seduction
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In the clearing, I behold the expanse
Skyward, the mythical clouds, translucent
Crescent in design, an August moon floats the sky
Mystic stories echo from another age…
Magic kingdoms afloat, drifting stars, galaxies and fables
The gods of the night, the kiss of ghosts, and my open window
Excerpt: Gypsy Moon
Copyright Lorenzo Lago
www.lorenzolago.com”
