Wings

The cobblestones were tangled up at my feet
And I collapsed in the ferns of the slope.
The altitude and the magnificence of the fern met the handshake
and I was found facing the nature and the clear skies,
until the virgin touched my eyes,
I was staggered and my friends of loneliness
brought the gaze of the mist to cover the body.
A bullet came along with my eyes, gazing at the naked mountains
and the submission trumpeted to the scent
of the dung and the wolves.
The wings of the scent touched the creation, the drought
the wells flourished, changed their clothing
and I, infatuated, harvested the sun, stopped the trucks,
just to listen and see her perfect body.
The moonlight applauded the vitality, the cold kiss of her
and slept, I couldn’t stand it, I got up
kept her gaze with me
and followed the paths of the abyss in the darkness
the lost treasure.

Fotios Panos