Overlooking the Pacific by Rose Mary Boehm

Where others have a wall, there are large windows.
Where others hear ambulances, police cars, motorbikes,
we hear the waves of the southern Pacific.
And there are the books and comfortable sofas,
and a big black chair that doesn’t let you read but closes your eyes.

Each morning we open the door to the terrace,
to the water and the world beyond the horizon.
We breathe in the breeze caressing our bed hair,
watch the small fishing boats that have been out for
hours, the seagulls following them full of hope.

And as the spines of the books lose colour
in the harsh, subtropical light, as the red of the Chinese fruit
fades on the parchment, and the black
of the dining chairs fights against being bleached,
we hold each other and know that this
is where we have planted our last roots.



A German-born UK national, Rose Mary Boehm, lives and works in Lima, Peru. Author of two novels and eight poetry collections, her work has been widely published in US poetry journals. https://www.rose-mary-boehm-poet.com/