TRYFON TOLIDES

 
Some Part

I'd like to show you the dirt
in my village, I thought, after it rains.
How it clumps up and dries.
And the color. I was reminded
of this as I walked in another country
in an unfamiliar summer.
We could walk through short dry
weeds, hear their sound on our shoes.
Be well, because I cannot sleep,
I wanted to tell her. I love you because
I cannot sleep. Some part is ruined
or broken open, from ripening.
Wind blows bare through the heart.
What was this call tonight?

Tryfon Tolides

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From the editor' s desk

The opening  of "Some Part" is a re-affirming of Seferis’s impression of
Greece after a long absence. (He lands in Patras, the soft rain turning the
harbor dust, drop by drop, to bright red, a chip of white marble beginning
to glisten in the late afternoon). Homey, probably, to every Greek, and
anti-monumental as the poem leads into the "we" section so familiar from the
Book of Acts and from Yeats.