Airfield

[Nick Tselepides]

AIRFIELD

 

In the slight spring rain

the sky fades

as the light falls.

 

Old airfield. A bird

wanders among an

empty ammo box,

 

a rusting rudder, silent,

off-green, with part

of the fabric gone

 

and a discarded instrument

from a panel.

Tyre marks,

disused, discolored runway

marks,

 

the sound of the wind

swishing a cut

wire.

 

What do we know.

 

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Nikos Tselepides , March. 03, Athens

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