PERSEPHONE
Further away,
no one swims, no one yells; the three gray, snobby
rivers, flow around the huge rock; they’ve a totally
different sound, loud, unique, that motionless sound
of eternal flow, you get used to, you almost don’t
hear it.
When my mother’s brother came to the house for
the first time he had something gray on him, like
those rivers. Suddenly he became ill; they laid him
on this bed, applied a few wet cuppings, I believe
he had caught a cold from the bright light and the heat,
I remember his wide shoulders, strong like grassy fields.
You’d fear his hair would catch fire, the candle was
so close, white candle on the silver candlestick. After
that they put it in the marble sink. The room smelled
of burnt cotton. His cloths, still warm, were thrown
on the chair. I noticed the candle dripped big drops
of wax on the marble.
Manolis Aligizakis 