Hour of the Child
The wooden ladder was in the back of the garden.
Chicken nibbled onto the fresh grass
as if breaking a few sad sun rays.
A butterfly sat on the leafless branch and spread its two
window shutters, white with yellow dots and a black stripe.
The gardener left his spade on the ground. He looked afar.
The unemployed man returned, closed his book, stepped
on his tiptoes and turning his glanced sideways
he stole a glance through the butterfly’s window.
Manolis Aligizakis 