Poems for World Refugee Day
34,361+ By Natasha Remoundou The children dive from the Aegean’s pink rocks into the water. One or two of them - the best swimmers- with an amphibian dip emerge onto the surface carrying in their gasps as many pebbles as they can salvage from the uncertain direction of the ascent, and strange pearls from the melanoid bellies of sea urchins they steal with their teeth to offer them to their sunburnt mothers. With their amateur acrobatics -and mostly with the thorns- they could have driven them mad if they, eclipsed behind sunglasses with distorted mirror lenses, had not slumbered. And just like this, and while the summer reverie and the games mainly in a deliberate lethargy were plunging us, we lingered with a question under the sun: that is, were the ruins on the sea bottom of their cacti palms the most unusual objects we had ever seen, or was it the beast that cried out foreign names and surnames and with a paralyzed oar inscribed them on the concrete sand?