Wind swept words

The sun disappears in the north and we are lost in the winter of our silence.

Of all the return guests we welcome the snow;

It maintains heated discussions – the passion for companionship.

But there are no people here.

This space is unpeopled.

There are only vague emotions, … and the fur coat of the sun.

Memory is a drifter.

O Greece!

O Greece, you are dead!
The blue and green maggots
That issue from ballots
To suck your blood instead

Entered your public body
Of ancient glory
And their filthy, gnawing teeth
Did your life destroy.