Prakash's Neighbour in Cyprus
The retired colonel
Tends his grapes
In the morning glare
It's always coffee time
The land is saline
There have been three forest fires
Since the dream of the republic died
They live on handouts from Turkey
There's a lifetime of swallowing your pride
These are the backwaters
Next year perhaps the grapes will come
Small green and sweet
The fruits of a lifetime.