(Conquistadores)

Again this summer

on the same path cramped into dwarf Mediterranean trees

I met

the lady with the dogs.*

She wore the same scowl face, 

the same hairstyle,

and susceptibility,

and I guess she recognized me, too.

Every early morning, apparently,

she drives all her three dogs, 

one of them huge, the other two white,

in her little (white) clio

which she parks in front of the ramp,

then she walks the Waves' trail

back and forth,

(but always counterwise my direction). 

Afterwards, I guess,

she must go back to home or work.

“I’ve grown to enjoy my time as a tree planter,” 

she says, 

“However, tree planting 

is not the main and only focus 

of my life,”**

she says,

and continues her journey

with the same pace,

the biggest (black) dog,

the size of an ordinary calf,

lagging just a bit behind

her,

occasionally stumbling against those hoarse tree trunks.

___________

* An association with Chekhov at this point is almost appropriate.

** Vir uporabljenega dobesednega govora je E. K., 14. 6. 2022 (private communication).

Mirjam Dular