A CRETAN POEM BY JANE SHARP

DIMITRIE
by Jane Sharp
(From her book of poetry
THE VRAHASSIAN)

Working in the olive grove
Dimitrie thinks only of the yield from his old roots
This knot-knarled tree is one of his favourites
Years of pruning has coaxed its spreading shape
Into a willow-wide bouquet of boughs
Laden with bullet-blooms that beg release

Now the master stands back and admires
All the nature (with his help) has created
And before the purging begins
Silence

Then with every thwack of his katsouna
He urges the fat cobalt fruit to shower onto
Carefully laid collecting mats

This hessian pack unloading onto stone
From the wooden back of unshod Neddy
Is filled from that great cracked tree (a good year)
And Dimitrie we see is pleased
As the press begins to wind and the screw to crush
The olives

So the scene with stubborn Herk
In slow perambulation making work the grind
Till mushy purple-tinted juice infuses fabric
With virgin-sweet scent
Ali-Baba jars are brimming full of oil
And tired Dimitrie is content