IV
Next to the bed by the wall
marks of a girl
playing with the warn stucco
sometimes a person’s face
sometimes a ship
foretells the future
the fairy with the seven fingers dances
the serpent, the old nail
tie the tale together.
Turned to the wall
friendship with an unknown
tears for a death
— always a sudden death,
mine, my mother’s —
and flowers, a lot of flowers
in the remote chapel by the rock
solemn promise to Alexander the Great
and to the other saints…
the dream, but a yellow wall
and the incisions talk to children
and frighten the adults.
Manolis 