POEM BY IOULITA ILIOPOULOS
LONG BED
A line of baby cribs. Large windows properly shut.
Dim light. Neither my baby nor lullaby.
Only some older people whisper under the blankets
there was a ship, there was a ship that never travelled
under the mattress and in the place of a talisman
the yearning of a mother who, may still come.
To bring the hug. To bring the true home in his embrace.
Manolis Aligizakis 