While time fades away
by S.Eta Grubešić

I am waiting for my angel
To show me the way
To my old home.
Morning dusk in the city
By the street lights
Bus on the move
On the foggy road
Clock in the time gap
In the left eye 6:38
In the right 8E: d
Where am I on that road
Of blind silence
To the young vineyard
Resembling a warriors’
A white dog, a ship-keeper
Called “Galley”
In the middle of the plain…
A giggling woman who
In the early morning talks about
Yoga, prison and in passing mentions
God . . .
I am waiting for my angel
To show me the way
To my old home.
Is it thinking of me
Just like I’m thinking of that
Lonely tree in the field
A soul on guard
A sharp turn and a truck
Full of oranges are blocking
The light from the river showing its
And while the time fades away
In my right eye
I recognize on the road
The life code of the body
I once lost somewhere
I am waiting . . . waiting
For my angel to finally
Tell me if this is the way
To my old home.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: In my creative process, there is ever-present pain for my place of birth. I visit this place twice a year, Travelling by bus early in the morning. After all this time, I do not recognize anything, neither the way nor the time I find myself in. It is a journey through another world. I am waiting for someone to come and show me how to reach my home and the time I left behind.

IMAGE: “Girl with Angels” by Dimitris Mytaras.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: S.Eta Grubešić is an ex-journalist, short story writer, poet, and photographer. Her works have been published in various books, literary e-journals, and portals, including Bones journal 5, Under the Basho journal 2014, Hedgerow, Sonic Boom journal, Brass Bell, Newsletter, and A.I.Haiku. She lives in Osijek, Croatia.