Southern
Memos, II
Reading
tankas
under
a scorching
heat;
Anything
longer could thaw
my
grip.
Understanding
how people
emerge
from the sea
as
carob trees, artichokes, sweet potatoes
lurk
beneath earth's surface;
all
because they have to.
The
deepest the drought
the
fitter the soil when rain
shall
pour;
if
and only if both
believe.
In
these conditions, happiness remains
a
selective property; for only those
blessed
are
able to shine
and
bloom.
Two
old ladies strolling
among
almond trees;
their
plucking though over
remains
a presence worth
living
– their silence
a
warm mystery.
©
2016, José Coelho
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