Keko Prijatelj
Someone spilt seeds over the tiles
Now we can’t walk barefoot
That’s it, there’s no story dear readers
The story is in the seeds
We put on our boots and crush them
Yes, we crush the tiles into debris
And the field is receptive
Four imposing statues erect
They should have a name
But we forgot as they
Are blocking our Sun and we call them
Winter Morning
The one who throws the ice bolt
Summer Evening
The one who casts implosion
Autumn Morning
The one who makes quicksand
Spring Evening
Bewitches into berserk
Oh you’re still here
Enchanted and enraged we look at you
But subtly
Causing only discomfort
As we sit and stare
Keko Prijatelj is a writer from Croatia. His work has been published in Abridged, Expat Press, Green Ink Poetry, Inksac, Misery Tourism, Queen Mob's Teahouse, and elsewhere. Thank you for reading his biography.