ancient marble frames

wide cobblestone,

hills and trees

as if

a painting

enters life—

pink parasols twirl

in the breeze

and passers-by stroll on

past ice cream vendors peach parfait,

a gypsy violinist plays

on, as if

the song cannot end,

as if

this promenade 

exists beyond

September Sunday’s mid-day sun.


by Loukia Janavaras


Loukia M. Janavaras is from Minneapolis, MN but has been living in Athens, Greece for the past 10 years. Although she enjoys writing, it is never a choice.

Listed at Duotrope
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