I’m again a five year old child

who survived the earthquake.

From the house that shook

father took me out in his arms

to the city park

where we found shelter.

 

I’m again a five year old child

who wanders off in that chaos and curiously

stops at the cages with monkeys

that belonged to the visiting circus

whose tents rose calmly in the park

behind Gotse Delchev’s monument.

 

And now I’m a fifty five year old child

who subconsciously wishes, in return,

to take in my arms, for the last time,

my five year old

and dying father –

so we could remember, together.

                                                               Skopje, October, 2013