Versions
by Harilaos Stefanakis
In this version, I’m in the city, bound
in concrete responsibilities
I say I am stuck, it is anxiety speaking
like praying for that which I do not want
What will happen next is fixed
in the ritual patterns of the streets
I trod and the cacophony of sounds
I have learned to ignore
Crowded arterials that need stints
for there is no space for longing
until I scalpel open a new view
unto my attention
In this version, I’m in the city, walking
down a different path
I say I am open, it is a prayer to life
and possibilities
What can happen next is uncertain
suspended in a symphony
of concrete echoes, between, the silence
I have learned to appreciate
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