new old kid on the blog,
with an occasional
old or new poem written off
the old writer's block
Me too..Me too Vassilis...them arms outstretched is as far i want to reach out every day...somehow i seem content
Vassilis,funny, when I was in Greece I'd heard the poor old trees seemed split down the middle for very grief. It's perhaps why we shouldn't wish longevity on anyone/anything.
Thanks for dropping by, guys--I took the liberty of updating this post and adding a photo which I hope will make the poem a little bit clearer--at least from the perspective of the olives trees.