Ion Corcos – three poems

A Different Life

Grey suit, sweet bread in a plastic bag,
he stops to look at a studio full of marble.

Thin white hair, like a gnarled branch
trained to cover lattice with flowers;

the scent of fish in the salted air; music
old as my father when he left his home.

My father would have felt at home here,
at home in this Greek mountain village;

the closeness, the gossip, the nearness to sea.
When his father died, my father found

his own Alexandria, but it was occupied.
Greece was his home, but he never returned.

He never walked these narrow streets,
and I will never walk them with him;

my father in a suit, sweet bread in his hand,
and beside him, his flowered wife.

Bonelli’s Eagle

I reach a patch of grass
where olive trees grow;
where wildflowers change
the colour you imagine an olive grove to be –
you have never seen one.

I glide above the trees,
look for a mouse, a scurry;
don’t want to get caught up in the life of a cat,
fight place, lay in a tangle of grass
beside garbage.

I rest my wings on air,
there is nothing to see here, to feed my flight;
I fly over pine forests, dry scrub,
bare slopes with rocky cliffs;
roost in far mountains.

The Dark

The blackened sky
cracked apart,
she scurries through
rumble and rain,
shopping bags drenched.

Snapped boughs
and scraps of skin
torn off paperbark trunks,
night slams and knocks
the seaweed mist and sky
into her wood home.

By candlelight she threads
a rip, her floral dress caught
on the snag of a twig.

As thunder trembles,
she peers through
the rain-speckled window
to see the noise
wandering out late.

Only the cemetery
overgrown with plastic flowers,
untamed grass, thrashed
leaves sprawled,
and the dark.

Ion Corcos has been published in Grey Sparrow Journal, Every Writer, Plum Tree Tavern, Rose Red Review and other journals. He is a Pushcart Prize nominee. The themes of his work centre on life, nature and spirit. He is currently travelling indefinitely with his partner, Lisa. Ion’s website is


5 thoughts on “Ion Corcos – three poems

  1. lisa reily October 27, 2016 / 8:14 am

    Wonderful, emotive poems, Ion! I love so many of the lines! I love your description of your father’s hair “trained to cover lattice with flowers” and how it connects so beautifully with the last line “and beside him, his flowered wife.” I can really feel Greece in this poem. Other favourites I found are in your third poem: “night slams and knocks the seaweed mist and sky”, “to see the noise wandering out late” and “the cemetery overgrown with plastic flowers”. Beautiful!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. chaosgatebook November 1, 2016 / 2:29 am

    Ion, great work! I especially like the opening and closing stanzas of A Different Life – such an elegant circle!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Ion Corcos November 1, 2016 / 6:01 am

    Thank you, Robert! That’s very kind of you. 🙂


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