A Slice of Moon With Watermelon Fragrance
It always appears early, when it’s the new moon.
Stars hadn’t yet appeared and the moon, just a little slice!
One could discern the rest of its body around, as if in fog, as if a body hidden behind a curtain, you see it mostly in your imagination, yet you know it is there, a real, alive moon that you will be able to touch in a few days.
And you’re happy to wait, to long for it and imagine it.
There was a moist anticipation in the air and the breeze, consistent as it was, from the south and pierced your bones and the old wounds in a sweet kind of way.
My dry lips till had the taste of the watermelon we ate at lunch time and now, evening already, my glance was glued high up in the sky.
And that moon, a watermelon slice, I ate earlier in the day and had thrown the leftover into the garbage bin.
A small, tiny, lighted and persistent moon telling me that summer was just beginning and the watermelon will last for a long time.
Manolis Aligizakis 