Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Stopping by a Grove of Ancient Olive Trees Near Twilight, I Think Myself Fortunate

Lost in recollection
Amidst deep ancient wrinkles, 
This is where one should spend 
The dying minutes of each wasted day.


  1. Vassilis,

    What a sad exhibition of life, and how you managed to present it in words. I don't mind the wrinkles as much as being lost in the recollection of how each came to be.

    1. Thanks, Manik. Just a thought, though--lost in the forest of your thought sounds better than finding yourself out of it, doesn't it? :)


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