Memory Pleats
Since many forgotten things
lurked in the pleats of memory
we all knew the meaning of
the forbidden fruit and
we followed a blind man
as if we needed an errorless guide
in the start of the twenty first century
and him, with the severed arm,
hid behind the robin’s song
as if to decipher our thoughts
when we often sat by our eastern balcony
and enjoyed the fresh breeze
of the August evening
as it was truly obvious that
we couldn’t fool the children any longer
Mayanaam
vequinox
Manolis 