Portugal Photographer

Larisa K.

Majestic pensive Matrona
on the border of the Atlantic coastal,
barefoot, with mane sloppy,
sits — and the forest above it a crown.
Leaning hand on the set of laws,
devouring fire of the eyes of the rebel
setting sun. Waves boundless
the terrible roar she sings in monotone
the dangerous and wondrous distant lands,
and she washes her feet in foam,
seeing the collapse of all empires,
spread across oceans —
and in fog comes as a delusion
prophetic don Sebastian is the king of mysteries.