Return
You arrived in the valley
at eight o’clock in the evening
and found me sitting next to the hearth
which I had been keeping alive for
five years
so you could warm up in the hour of
your return
we hugged and kissed as if
we were never separated
I served warm dinner
we made our cross
you said God is my judge and
offered me your hot lips
after dinner we went to bed
you said you were terribly missing
the cocoa scent of our bedroom
while streams of hot chocolate
were flowing from my eyes
for you to drink
Home
summer’s tongue licks
all our attempts
to build a home
we conjure rain
to show us where
foundations are
we pull roots out
collect brown leaves for the cellar
oranges for walls
yellow birds for windows
we are eternal tenants
wait for winter
its fire scarf
and winter is late as the trains in Serbia
our feet are bare
our bodies are cold
asphalt
About the author:
Danijela Trajković holds an MA in English Language and Literature from the Faculty of Philosophy in Kosovska Mitrovica, Serbia. She has authored numerous short stories and also is a poet, translator and reviewer. Published by literary magazines, newspapers and anthologies worldwide. Her first book “22 Wagons” was published by Istok Academia, Knjaževac, Serbia, 2018.
