Across the bay <br />the fairy gold of Positano <br />gleams and winks in the morning glow of sun, <br />divided by the plunge of cliff and gulley, <br />arches, towers, domes and pastel villas, <br />stacked like ornaments on shelves, against the ancient rock. <br /> <br />Out of its shining hub, scattered satellites <br />of hotels, churches, farms nested in terraced olive groves, <br />climb the slopes <br />on roads gouged from the glowering crags. <br /> <br />Far off, beyond the dwindling peaks, <br />in the ochre-grey distance, <br />Capri's three towers stand against the sky. <br />The sea between <br />marked by pale currents. <br />Boats that will cut the mirror surface with their noisy wake <br />now lie at rest below the calm town. <br /> <br />Impatiently, the coast is conquered. <br />The Sorrento bus comes through, <br />busy with early morning workers, <br />its klaxons echoing through the route. <br /> <br />They take for granted, as no tourist does, the coast road, <br />surveyed, cut, held firm by Roman spans of deep clefts, <br />over the dizzy plunges to unforgiving rocks and deep green coves, <br />through tunnels sounding with their nasal songs, <br />past whorls of cliffs flayed of their grey cracked skin, <br />under the towers, ribs and claws of the uncaring mountains, <br />past the dreaming towns, towards Amalfi's battlemented port.<br /><br />Janice Windle<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/italian-collection-view-of-positano-from-praiano/
