Shantih Journal | Page 51

Without Heroes

Gabor Gyukics

a ripe pear finds its way through the branches

reaches the ground and explodes in my intrusive palms

I wash the goo off with fresh rainwater

collected in the well ring next to the draw well

the rain finds every gap

falling from zero point to zero

breaks through every heavy duty terrain

and calms down when it evolves

to become a stream that makes

the frogs quiet their croaking

the crickets their chirping

I place my palm on the ground

I feel the heartbeat of my mother

I hang the piking basket

to dry

on the hook of the counter brace

in the shed