A friend of mine in whimsy said
“The west of Crete’s a rhino’s head:
Its mouth at Elafonisi
And jutting out where horns would be
Two northward pointing tongues of land
(From Kissamos on either hand);
So Chania is the rhino’s eye,
Its ear just where the aircraft fly.”
So much for maps, which only show
A partial truth. Because I know
Rhinoceroses when running free,
Thick-skinned, bad tempered, solitary,
Are quite unlike the folk you meet
On every Cretan village street
Who, kind and generous, make the guest
A friend along with all the rest.
