THE CROSS OF LONELINESS
to Thanássis Tsiarídis
In the sky, the cross of loneliness.
Others called it the “Southern Cross”.
The wind aroused us from the South.
Pain of the soul like a knife wound -
nightmares and mental anguish.
In this our century, the twenty-first,
only matters of the heart remain
besides business affairs -
it’s a microcosm growing around
everyone, overshadowing all else.
You’re talking about globalization,
but I know I’m getting old.
The flight of time scares me,
for there’s this feeling of isolation
where the collective is absent.
