Untitled #1

by Nijole Miliauskaite

Nijole Miliauskaite

I know a place where when you
brush your foot across the sand
the sand moans sadly
as if weeping

sometimes
a woman appears there, dressed in black, with eyes
emptied of tears

wind carries her across the sand like
the shadow of a cloud

there was a death camp there, during the war




Last updated August 08, 2015