As Autumn TV schedules click into gear
and families settle down in living rooms,
I think of the Nuraghe Palmavera,

those pokey little neolithic domes,
a flint head’s throw from the Sardinian coast.
I doubt each modest household stayed alone

come nightfall, nor played dinner party hosts
for that sweet couple that lived two huts down.
No doubt the people of that cramped outpost

converged round fire,  ripped rare horseflesh from bone
sang their hearts out over distant waves,
within the shadow of the largest dome,

the place where the important people lived.


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. peter litton
    Aug 19, 2012 @ 23:43:53

    Nuraghe Palmavera…what wonderful sounding words.

    It’s about nuclear families living apart in little boxes. Our forefathers had their Celtic and Saxon Halls with an oral tradition of story telling, poetry and, no doubt drunken singing.


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