873 Zorba’s Will (perhaps you should read the book) 12-9-19

Came the morning,
His widow,
smiling and in tears,
handed his santuri to me.
It was as hard for me
to let go of Lyuba,
for she smelled of orange blossoms.
As I strolled her gravel path
towards the little village and depot,
I strummed the cords,
plucked the strings,
as she had shown me,
in respites,
through the night.
She’d whispered,
her breath warm on my skin,
“Zorba taught me.”
And she had learned well.
At last the words of his songs
came to my lips.
The rhythms of his music,
easily to my finger tips.
I sniffed her scent
in my beard,
on my hands.
I heard Zorba’s laughter
rising from Serbian soil
into a borderless sky.

About Ken Greenman

Married and Happy. Retired and busy. Living in NC. 71 and counting. December 12, 2020 and it's 72! ... I would love some written comments, critiques, adulation or kind suggestions.... If you have the time and or inclination, please feel free! Not in fear but by faith. We will see. See you later! If you ever want to talk for real, email me and I will send you my cell number.... I am enjoying this!
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