I remember the Corniche.
The broad strip of road that edged
the sea,

lined by palm trees either side,
narrow fibrous trunks painted white,
dusty green frond crowns.

I remember colonnaded streets,
magenta paper lanterns of bougainvillea
strung against ochre walls,

how they rustled with the wings 
of sparrows in the evenings,
seethed with the joy of it.

I remember the blasting car horns
of wedding cavalcades making their
triumphant progress along the boulevards,

the whole city gripped by celebration, 
and underneath it all, in a kind of foreshadowing,
the boom and slap of wave against rock.

Originally published in Blacknore Review (2022)