Women upward

By the green hedge of leaves we see the women, in a chain, their mouths turned up towards an invisible God.

Between mausoleums lie several songs that rise up as Sunday smoke swirls to join general vagueness of the sky.

Women are upwards with their faces and in their souls , a fine breath of air filling old bodies,on way to their God.

Their God eats butter and plays his flute on the river bank to several girls on a moonlight receiving songs from women chains.


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