Portfolio Naples April 2018 - Page 81

A fog drifts in, the heavy laden Cold white ghost of the sea— One by one the hills go out, e road and the pepper-tree. I watch the fog float in at the window With the whole world gone blind, Everything, even my longing, drowses, Even the thoughts in my mind. I put my head on my hands before me, ere is nothing left to be done or said, ere is nothing to hope for, I am tired, And heavy as the dead. Sara Trevor Teasdale Photo: Mark VanDyke PORTFOLIO MAGAZINE 79