Maria Dorota Pieńkowska: Breakfast on the grass

Breakfast on the grass

I'm looking at an old photograph.
breakfast on the grass
not in the park – in the forest
My father grazes his eyes green
After a phase of white meadows never enough
Now his religion is simply a flourishing tree
Mother – the most beautiful smile
Deep Shadow
Godfather – years of distress
all pre-war

Black and white red photography
It's like individual from modern painters.
added the effect of old blood

Where are they going?
What trip?

Each of them has already crossed itself
your green border

Father didn't miss white
Siberia was full of it.
Mother – torn from nest
She was afraid to believe.

She trusted only mothers.
of yours and God's

And I'm thinking, is that enough?
to receive the grace of the Meeting
on that incomprehensible side
Where the 1 Who Is
wipes all teardrop out of your eyes
And I'm reasoning of joining them soon.
If I run between floors
where many apartments
and whether the door to them is always open
Just like ours at home.
Long ago

Maria Dorota Pieńkowska