New Safeguards
Silent mornings as the leaves fall, a pause
under the perforated domes of trees,
deep pause of the roots in the soil. Two old men
sit on the bench; they stare at their hands. A woman
gathers fruit from the low branches, the other
woman disappears on the treetop. Later on
the sun strikes its pan on the garden railings;
then the women come down from the trees,
shake off their dresses, get inside the houses,
tidy the rooms, make the beds;
they hold the big despotic guarding brooms
which remind us that we have to always protect
ourselves from something.
Manolis 