THE hot and battered boat
in Mandraki harbour
tugs at its ropes:
each passing ship
a reminder it has to be away.
Water reflections
dart across its salt-baked hull.
At last, the sun sinks behind
the old walled city of Rhodes.
Black-toothed crenellations
painted in oranges and pinks
from the beginner's palette.
As the engines wake
the boat trembles with anticipation.
It turns its back on Rhodes
and points the painted eye
towards dark, foam-topped seas
to myth and legend
and the land of dolphins.
It casts away
freshly-peeled visitors,
postcards and souvenir stalls.
Mandraki fades to a glow
and up on deck the men start to
call out to each other and tell jokes.
Updated: 15:03 Wednesday, June 04, 2003
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