Disconnected
The baby cries in the room with the fireplace.
The priest comes down the hillside.
There are more mountains further down.
Snow, clouds, sunshine, windowpanes.
The crow up high
its shadow on the ground.
Here, here
present,
absent
present,
in the general absence
and the sharp wind, on the road, flutters
a coloured picture
of the familiar soccer team.
Manolis Aligizakis 