“Even now,
when I am walking in this town,
I want to be Hand in hand with my mother”
(Shota Iatashvili. “The Haiku of my towns”
In the fall,
When my town looked like mined crossroad,
I felt how my mother release me her hand
and (after that) she mixed with frightened seagulls. (went into seagulls group)
Since then I am standing
With my hands raised to the sky –
In night. (inside night)
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