Ion Corcos – Foxglove Journal

fisherman – Ion Corcos

blue bay turns to white

scatters seagulls on the pier

splashes high on empty restaurants

onto rocks

a lone fisherman on an old cane chair

hot mountain tea on salted stone;

no man calls to long-haired goats

along the rugged path, no clinking bells

only a loose canvas flapping

a few dead fish in buckets

and a dying wind in the cove

Ion Corcos has been published in Grey Sparrow Journal, Clear Poetry, Communion, The High Window and other journals. He is a Pushcart Prize nominee. Ion is a nature lover and a supporter of animal rights. He is currently travelling indefinitely with his partner, Lisa. Ion’s website iswww.ioncorcos.wordpress.com.

December 9, 2017 by foxglovejournal Categories: PoetryTags: animals, bells, call, colours, cove, creative, creativity, death, elements, fish, goats, humanity, Ion Corcos, mountain, nature, path, poem, Poetry, rocks, salt, stone, wind, writing 1 Comment

Pacific Black Duck – Ion Corcos

Head plunged into water,

body upturned, rear protruding

from the shallow creek.

Tongue like a piston, he sucks water,

thrusts it from his wide grey bill,

sieves insects and seeds.

Soft brown feathers edged in cream,

brown-streaked eye, buff face,

he surfaces.

On the grassy banks,

a female calls; a raucous quack.

He flaps his wings, iridescent green,

climbs onto shore.

November 30, 2017 by foxglovejournal Categories: PoetryTags: animal, banks, bird, colours, creative, creativity, creek, duck, elements, eye, face, fauna, feathers, Ion Corcos, nature, poem, Poetry, quack, seeds, shore, water, wings, writing 2 Comments

Earthworms – Ion Corcos

Beneath the earth,

worms burrow

corridors

leave behind a map

of nostalgia.

On the surface

they find no rain,

search for pools

on concrete paths.

Some lie empty,

crumpled;

beyond life,

corridors

the last relics

left behind.

June 22, 2017June 22, 2017 by foxglovejournal Categories: PoetryTags: animals, burrowing, corridors, creative, creativity, death, earth, elements, ending, fauna, Ion Corcos, life, map, nature, nostalgia, paths, poem, Poetry, pools, rain, relics, worms, writing 2 Comments

The Moon – Ion Corcos

The moon’s light opens the sea,

brings limestone and sea urchins out of the dark,

lets me see more than I would in the day,

when the light is hard, reflects off water,

white houses, the rocky hills.

It is hard to see fish in the sun,

except when they come to the surface

to nibble bread, or when they are dead;

thrown back to the water, untangled

from a net, floating.

I prefer night, the white moon,

phosphorescence in the dark sea,

like a turn in a dream, the quiet

silver of fish, the mystery

of stars.

June 15, 2017 by foxglovejournal Categories: PoetryTags: animals, colours, creativity, darkness, death, dream, elements, fauna, fish, Ion Corcos, life, light, mystery, nature, night, poem, Poetry, sea, sky, stars, vision, water, writing 3 Comments

Chrisi Akti – Ion Corcos

for Christos

The moon is out before dark.

Olive trees hide blackbirds,

cypress the coo of pigeons.

A cat sprawls in the fading light.

Cracked voice of an old man

like the bark of a tree,

old as Poseidon.

A lemon on the roadside.

Goats in wild grass,

the clink of bells.

Red crumbled earth,

scattered pine trees

on snow-capped mountains.

The sea is full of white birds.

Scent of orange fills the air.

June 9, 2017 by foxglovejournal Categories: PoetryTags: animals, birds, creative, creativity, elements, fauna, fruit, Ion Corcos, landscape, light, moon, mountains, nature, poem, Poetry, scenery, senses, sky, sound, trees, voice, world, writing 2 Comments