
Diminio
Strong sun reflections on the clean window panes
criss-crossing each other, the chimney of the small
house supplemented by the arias of the cicadas;
the sunlit sea was climbing up the road during
the high noon and was washing away paper bags,
watermelon seeds, newspapers; the afternoon was
empty. Nothing was left in the houses but the honorable
swaying of the white curtain and a sweaty handkerchief
on the big warm bed.