1st of November
The fog, like the jackdaws, has black wings,
has no eyes
it searches our eyes, and our pockets with its blindness
like the old card reader reads our palms.
We can’t hide anything anymore
here things appear from the inside out
like a dirty sock we take off before we go to sleep
and all the feet are naked the same as the faces.
Day by day we all address each other in singular*
Each shadow has the shape of a remembrance
yet the shadow of a mother’s lost hand
assumes the shape of a voice that doesn’t resist you,
becomes a cup of coffee, a piece of bread,
the thermometer
even the shaving razor next to the cup in the small
mirror.
The ward has two light bulbs.
We cover each light bulb with newspapers
you cover one I do the other: we’re on duty tonight.
Our movements are almost the same,
we don’t look at each other.
We like that sameness;
through the window, we look at the sky lost in the fog;
everything assumes the expression of totality.
___________________________
addressing one in singular relates to friendliness
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Manolis Aligizakis 