Costas Nisiotis Poems

My father died on a wintry Sunday afternoon.
Moments before, his hair became black and curly
his eyes bright green. On his left wrist appeared
the watch with the gold bracelet.
...

I took pride in my strength
felt my shoulders could lift cedars.
Mother and need made me sturdy
or a certain fate.
...

I was always on the move like a wandering Jew
seeking affordable lodgings.
All I owned fitted in a suitcase.
Rented rooms with a view of backyards and railway lines
...