Thursday, October 22, 2015

Finally, Out of the Summer Doldrums

The calico dying 
Leaves swirl wildly 

In a grim, grey wind 
Rain pelts down 

In sheets, the poem 
Your writing’s still 

Like that fat cat 
Curled up, purring 

In its fur- 
Lined basket 

Near the fire- 
Place in the corner 

Of the plush living 
Room again. 


  1. How do we get stranded there, the ropes and sails slack and living on hardtack and rum? But how sweet to have the wind back, and, as Louis Simpson puts it, "a fragrance, pimienta, / the wind brings over the sea." Lovely, Vassilis!

    1. Thanks, mate for coming on board and for the Simpson quote about a condition much more desirable than this described in a haiku by Seferis:

      Unprofitable line

      What’s wrong with the rudder?
      The boat inscribes circles
      and there’s not a single gull.

  2. I have the impression the something's going on in the real world t'other side this pixeled page. can't put my finger on it. Is all well there?

    1. Thanks for your concern, Joe; like the great majority of Greeks, we are trying hard to make the best of a very difficult situation; luckily, living as we do in the countryside makes it easier for us than if we were living in an urban area, and health-wise all members of the family are well, which is the thing that counts in the long run.


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