Sincerity
At dusk we saw him coming behind the windows
with lights from an unknown approached the display window
with calm people holding in their hands
unwrapped fabrics dragging on the ground
and a woman holding a piece of the invisible
supported like a violin under her chin
and perhaps that was somewhat hard on her because
that way she couldn’t raise her head at all
and it was she who dyed her dress black
in the copper cauldron in the basement where
they had piled the hoops of big barrels
our wooden childish horses the old lamps
and that first owl on the yard’s tree
stuffed disguised into three nightingales
Hellenic Canadian Literature 