Sunday, March 20, 2011

Vassilis


The grapes were ripe again on the northwest corner of our farm. I showed them to a friend. Wise old men, I said, use the blood to color their homemade wine. Hearing this, he smiled. Across the way, we kicked clods in the neighbors’ open ground. I told him
of the time their house burned down. Now, their breakfast light was on.



Library Notes: From “A New Variorum Edition of Shakespeare”: King John; Anthony and Cleopatra; The Merchant of Venice; As You Like It.

5 comments:

♥Jan♥ said...

and once again it was time to awaken with the sun's light...

Lovely thought & dream, William~~~

Old 333 said...

Yes, I liked it too. Thank you, William. Breakfast light!

P

William Michaelian said...

Where do we go when we dream? I’m pretty sure we do travel. Thanks, you two. I do appreciate your reading.

vazambam said...

Thanks for baptizing your dream with my name, godfather; I'm honored.

William Michaelian said...

As you are the friend in the dream, brother, it seemed the only thing to do.