Little Bethlehem


black carob-pods droop
among moonlit olive trees

the Romans spaced

along these bushy terraces
where some infant is crying out

for a ready breast

north African breezes carry
muted baas and bells aloft

over pequeño Belén

a meteor bleeds
east to west

while I am brought
seeds by quiet ants

and lick wild honey


      Deia, Mallorca