Chromatism
Dusk paints the sky with a diaphanous
chromatism before you can see
the stars sparkling matches and
Bic lighters while the naked oak
stares as the young falcon ruffles
his feathers and clips his talons
“Bring me a soft feather and a wing”
you cry in agony
as the petals of gardenia flowers
decide to turn yellow and signal
their wish for an end
like the rainbow wishes
for the end of rain and
the chrysanthemum laughs
out of embarrassment as you pull
the chair closer to sense my sighs
which settle here once and all
the short laughs heard nearby
when the moon stands alone
in the firmament and the sin was a myth
“Call me a messenger and get
my love letter to her tender box”
you shout yet the worm is implanted
in the apple and Eros is turned
into a curse like Phaethon was turned
to a devil at a convenient moment
peace spent and many bodies
sat here on this chair that still bows
Manolis Aligizakis 