The Archipelago   Endless horizon of blue-grey sky and sea. Freckled with spots of green and brown. The wanderer sees all with a pair of black beady eyes. Looking for a place to stay. At last, a refuge! He perched on top of an iron cross, wings wrapping him from the blowing winds. As the sun fell, darkness took over the sky, with dots of pale white forming arbitrary patterns – by Alen Tanoyo     Church Scattered clouds in lines of laced Not a single open face Blackened church of green white steeple Not a view of living people Rusted roof brown and slate Not a friend, a pal, a mate…