"One Line for Two Aunts"
The green curve of the olive leaf
endures beyond pessimism. A thousand years,
dark-voiced Josephine speaks from the sea:
the warmth is lovely, a repast is near.
A thousand years, aristocratic Julia
laments her wisdom: weary sailors,
why not walk along my shore?
The generations cultivate their seed:
I speak of love.
Up from calcareous soil,
after a millenium they stand,
branches in flower.
the bones of the olive tree bear.