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Days of 2015

         Τα καλοκαιρια μας μικρά
         κι ατέλειωοι χειμώνες
                             Sotiria Bellou


We seized the night and shook it till it broke,
so time and bottles and most of our shoes
spilled from its breaking—and music gushed too:
Paris and Nikos relentless till five.

Blame them for this minefield of broken glass,
our unreasonable outbursts of joy.
Someone danced until his knees were bleeding.
Someone said she had fractured her being.

Then that night ended. Then sun, as before.
Now the instruments unwind in their coffins,
and we pace along the balcony and stare.
The broken girl is asleep on last night's chair.

Some say we have tonight. Tomorrow too.
In the fireplace, a few embers glow.
Brother, bring me some coffee. OK, and beer.
We're going to need at least a thousand years.


Christopher Bakken

Michigan Quarterly Review

Fall 2016


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