[Poetry] may make us from time to time a little aware of the deeper unnamed feelings which form the substratum of our being, to which we rarely penetrate; for our lives are mostly a constant evasion of ourselves. T.S.Eliot
Friday, April 30, 2021
Thursday, April 29, 2021
Tuesday, April 20, 2021
Waiting for better times
The city is slowly coming back to life, as shown by the every day more intense traffic. However, there are still places where the forced state of quietness persists.
Sunday, April 18, 2021
Sunday, April 11, 2021
Ten minutes of sunshine
The "window" of sunshine has been very short, this morning. Enough to sit a while on the bench placed on my balcony, soak my shoulders with some warmth and stare at the new flowers sprouting from the pots. And then again lots of clouds and cold. A weird, crazy spring, so far.
Wednesday, April 7, 2021
Sunday Meal
It's the second Easter Sunday spent far from our town of origin, families and friends. And again, another tentative to make it look like a typical holiday of the past. But reality is different: it's getting more complicate every day, entangled and confused.