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BLACK BUTTERFLY
POETRY, PROSE AND PAINTINGS
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Leaving Agrigento
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I will go there once more, before time and the turn of the tide take me from this shore and I will stand in the broad space breath air heavy with the dust of centuries.
I will see this place again before I start on my never to return journey. I will touch the cold stone with a soft hand and add myself to its' history.
And the pillars will still stand rising from the red earth and the beetles will still scurry in their iridescent armour between the fallen stones and the sun will still throw javelins of light between the ruins and all will be as it always has been but I will not be there. |