Beginning of August
already September announced
with suddenly cooled down air
that carries the tactile
message.
Life’s like an expanding balloon
it’ll burst in the stratosphere
of thoughts.
Her pent-up anger nags
like a woodworm
thru’ the softwood of his
peripheral being.
No use of displaying him
a panoramic view of the
island Paros
her present delusion tours
her around.
He wakes into the chatter
of smartphone people
and the tiring pace of a
downtown commuter
whose mortal shell
has been sapped from
physical strength
but whose soul is enriched
by stints of soothing
environments –
Where the stubble face of
Zorba dominates the
contemp white temple
of Greek cuisine
calling back memories of
Love and Understanding
Passion and Desire
the scent of charcoal-grilled
lamb
the smack of turquoise seas
in tight oral embraces.
There’s never a boring ride
on the line bus
amidst a market of
unbridled chatter.
Voices of Europe
not yet united but
will they ever?
Balloon.noollaB
zoltanzelan
ZJG-POetry’17.
