The sky and its thousand stars
stare back in sadness
as do I
in the pre-dawn hours
resigning the world
without sleep
This morning we could sense
the sun was powerless to rise
Looking outside the window
as the instructor was busy explaining
tenses and moods
our gaze fixed on the cypress tree
handfuls of snow caught in its outstretched palms
as the instructor’s voice rebounded from the walls
In a time when words are wasted. Repeatedly. In a time when one must struggle against becoming yet another living platitude. Defiantly. When everyone has depression, and pills will help you find yourself. Predictably. I look up at the skies of the infinite winter, attempting to read God’s handwriting. Confusedly.
Outshining the statues of Hathor and Ramesses II
truer to life than the coffin lids picturing Osiris, Isis and Horus
the bright Aegean light
revealing the half-clothed and voluptuous Aphrodite
Demeter seated on throne
Apollo holding kithara
She who sits there
unmoved
all evening
looking out at the planes
as they ascend and descend
what is she thinking?
so much for the sunshine
it’s complicated
it always is
still have time for summer
but how many winters will it take
who knows