Children astray to their mothers, and goats to the herd,
Sheep to the shepherd, through twilight the wings of the bird,
All things that morning has scattered with fingers of gold,
All things thou bringest, O Evening! at last to the fold.

Portrait

HOW   TO....


If I knew how to stand
how to walk
and if the sky broke in two
just for me
over my head
and all the hidden presents
waters that mingle, in river and sea
how beautiful they look faded
lamps and stars,
then
I would have bathed, my body my hair
and that it defines me,
small bitter and tender
and faced the fire,
with words
to quench her.


(Maria Skoularikou Panoutsou)


Translated for Greek  by me   and  diligence by  Jim Musics

A child's garden
of simple verse

tone rhythm
cadence

so magic but
slowly

moving
into shorter days

longer
nights

whit howland © 2021

her eyes glint in the sunlight
a beautiful, profound blue
something warm lingers
a spark within me brew

when she stares up at me
my cold cheeks heat
as dark wisps of her hair
dances in the breeze

she was a bright starlight
racing down the night sky
in a bright, brilliant arc
making hearts all around sigh

i find myself chasing her
i really had no shame
because at times like these
i was a moth drawn to a flame

i question this feeling often
is this love at first sight?
or was it an obsessive attraction?
maybe i was just lonely tonight