Travel Tips
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Once, I saw a child with olive leaves in his hand
He was stumbling out of bewilderment
his surroundings seemed bleak,
melancholy death over death, death again!
After two Christ years
he was still there, a “Crescent-moon” on his hand shining like “the star”- not the David’s
but he wasn’t screaming, trying to expose his sticky teeth
At last, today - he wasn't there!
I found him in a graveyard
A bright full moon hanging on his head
Still, he chants in quietude, free-dome!
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