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.

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