Ancient Supper

They brought the golden pitcher, the big silver bowl.

They washed their hands, sliced bread, ate.

The ephebe wasn’t hungry. He was silent. He was

examining the face of the stranger when, sometimes,

his fork created a shadow like a mast.

Then the old singer tuned his guitar.

Big plane tree leaves fell on the plates

next to the bones of cattle. Multi oared ships, from

the Neios harbor, came through the door and

stood upright in the middle of the hall. Him, with

the hairy, naked chest held the yoke of the last ship

having blindfolded his eyes with a white kerchief.

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DIFFERENCES

What did you finally risk? What you got

to know of our years in your own skin?

Have you ever accepted the irreversible without

hesitation? Then, how you secure the right

of your certainty or your doubt?

But, let it be. We have to go beyond our differences.

And I have to crush this secret belief in my superiority.