Arduo Adro
from where I am I see the holy field (I wanted to skip this stage, you know... stop getting impatient whenever I see little yellow flowers on the surface of the earth, never hear again the poisonous distant voice that calls, submit myself once and for all to the depressing hammer of the day and pay more attention to the height of the buildings in this city).
the steep lane and the cypress trees are two, three hundred meters away (this quadrant on the timeline no longer allows you to smile, everything is annoying or irrelevant: children, money, televisions, barking). the holy field would convey calm and peace, if peace and calm reigned in the heart of what they call inside.
going up the lane so many times to say goodbye, one fine day you will be there (let me know if you also immediately imagine the quiet and placid horizontality, gray birds languidly flying over our terminal rectangular geometry, sunny afternoons of a death that has no end).
Is it the irreversibility of the solemn procession as it leaves the chapel or the heartbreaking gravity stamped on the wrapper of that moment that must make you think very carefully before leaving?
Copyright © Marco Chies | Year Posted 2022
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