Katerina Katsiri



The sea is a letter mailing itself to me,

a continuous self creation, bare and azure,

moon shines down to a shimmering point,

no wonder I'm so attached to midnight.

My perspective trembles inside the echo

of breakwater, rising shores -

still here I live with dust and little rain,

sunlight that lasts for months, an injustice

the desert so close to the beach. 

Father, I'm caught in the day to day,

I've forgotten mist, forgotten to count

grains of sand, collecting shells

is a far-off memory.  Forgive me.

                    Lisa Zaran