Libyan Sibyl
I did not expect to see you in the flesh of an olive tree, thigh-deep in dust and gravel, pelvic torque powerful enough to draw dampness from the dark heart of the hillside. Hips and shoulders twist in ecstatic offering, fingertips lifting shallow bowls of long-leached water to the sun in exchange for a wreath, laden with oil-ripe clusters: a glaucous icon of virility. I reach into your throat, tapping. Weathered knots give wooden notes: a seer does not sing without a question. Peter Tolly Peter Tolly has studied and practiced creative writing at Northwestern University--where his poetry earned the Faricy Award in first place and appeared in the campus literary magazine Prompt--and more recently at the Aegean Center for the Fine Arts in Paros, Greece. He is currently based in Wisconsin.
1 Comment
Ann Tolly
1/13/2018 01:55:48 pm
Peter, your writing is beautiful! You took us right to the spot in your writing. You have a strong gift to bring words of beauty and you share the quietness that is there, to your readers. Thank you for sharing both the pictures and poem. It is a keeper!
Reply
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply. |
The Ekphrastic Review
COOKIES/PRIVACY
This website uses marketing and tracking technologies. Opting out of this will opt you out of all cookies, except for those needed to run the website. Note that some products may not work as well without tracking cookies. Opt Out of CookiesJoin us: Facebook and Bluesky
July 2025
|