Tags

, , ,

the hermit looks at his hands and imagines

that the chains are made of roots, brown and lumpy,

frozen in the winter times.  A burly

saint, with beard and brown

eyes welcomes the hermit out

after picking up the marble slabs.  The

saint, with sly observance of

the sun says that there is

trouble that will come to the hermits

eyes.  The hermit ceases to

see colour and when his lost wife

greets him at their home, he can’t

make out which one of her

eyes had healing properties.  The saint

grows on the horizon, as the sun sets,

he becomes larger and

his laugh becomes greater, deeper

and less menacing.  The wife is

crying, the hermit is praying.

Advertisements