Wet clothes hang on a line suspended  on two poles

On windy days wave like captive souls

A passerby pauses as if trying to recall a forgotten task

A boy walking the opposite way

Tries to understand between fascination and true insight

He remembers he should get home before Angelus 

Clouds darkening hurriedly in the horizon.


With one big breath, the wind
swept away all the leaves of autumn
The gnarled roots, visible with red ants crawling.
We were running, chasing each other
after one of us almost drowned in the river
We were testing each other
forgetting heard parental warning:
currents can be swift,
depth can be hard to judge
We thought we are bold
and know more than our age
We were eyeing on toying with the red ants.

That was the day
when “everything smells of hyacinth”
innocence started to fade
We started to learn calligraphy.