STROPHE
Moment, sent by a hand
that I had so much loved
you reached me almost at dusk
like a black dove.
The road shone before me
soft breath of sleep
at the end of a secret feast
moment, grain of sand,
that you alone kept
the tragic clepsydra whole
silent, as though it had seen Hydra
in the heavenly orchard.
Hellenic Canadian Literature 