Pendulum
Soft murmur pendulating
between the tip of the last leaf and
the brown earth, ambivalent desire
for a fall or stand against October’s
hoarfrost and the insatiable yearning
for Death in the heart
of autumnal chiaroscuro
cloud witnessing the sequence
between ambivalence and fate
say,
let the cicada’s exoskeleton
on the olive tree trunk
ready to be blown away like
most leftover cadavers chanting
a hymn or Gloria substituting
elegy sung by the mother of the dead poet
what one can say about the unheard
whistling out of her perfectly
contoured lips and
what one can say about his graceful
ride on top of golden mares and
what one can say about Eros
standing firmly between the lips
of the Kore and the blushing breeze
when the poet throws his love
to the four corners of the Earth, thus defining
his borders which Death cannot defile?
Just frost is left and the shock
of rose petals waking up to November’s
thirst for their blood
say,
make haste to the fireplace and
let winter write notes about darkness
April always returns triumphant
Manolis Aligizakis 