August is coming to end twilight
wraps itself around the olive grove
earlier than a few days before and
after five, sun sinks into the sea with
an almost unseemly haste.
The evening breeze is still mild but
carries pockets of cooling air like
a lover who is preparing to leave,
only waiting for the right time and
I sense the beginning of unsolvable
The village's lane is dark, yet moon
is full, but doesn't reach into my
heart that aches for the past, those
days in May when the future was
moving to never ending summers.
So, farewell then fly with the wind
Be gone! I will, as always, walk on
hidden tracks and in the shadow of
a carob tree sense your presence and
ask for one more summer.