Summer Sadness

The handsome villager was lying under the shade

of the plane tree while the panting golden heat

of the day buzzed around him, over his bare chest

and his bare feet showing from his raised pants.

Wide soles, well-shaped toes, like the statues and

that brunette air of his carefree manliness.

His skinny, pale woman came with a baby in her arms

and two little ones holding her faded dress.

He got up. He took a sheaf of wood underarm, one

of the children by the hand and walked away to

the depth of high noon. The skinny woman followed

two meters behind him.

                                     Endless sadness:

no one will ever tell him that he’s handsome. He’ll

never get to know it.