I stand in quiet by the stream,
and wait for a key.
Either I was left behind or I
left something close;
...
Zorika Petic's poems range from nature idyll to moral anguish, from dominion to the solace of land, from the war against nature to the war against ourselves. These wise, luminous poems move us to live within nature's design and find a measure of peace.)
The Visit
I stand in quiet by the stream,
and wait for a key.
Either I was left behind or I
left something close;
a part of my life doesn't move.
There's a loss as if all
of history has been replayed
in the dramas lived here.
These horses don't know me,
and the epoch is new.
The fields are fields, the silver
air no truer than anything else.