Two years ago, my wife brought home a dog.

Her name, Zola, a black female, smart and active.

Then, I scolded and inveighed at her, for I had never liked dogs.

Unwilling by me, she remained in the backyard.

We have three beloved sons, and, last week,

by a big muddle, they fought and thumped each other.

My wife, nervous and strained, abandoned home,

leaving me and going to an apartment we possess.

That night, I phoned her and ask why she had not taken Zola.

It is an apartment, she said, a big one, but

Zola does not fit here.

Take her, I said, it is a matter for you to solve.

Then, at the eleventh hour, she passes by the corridor and says:

I am back home, will remain with you.

I learned, once more, that, in my life,

everything has had a reason to be,

even just an animal.

Zola rescued a thirty-five years’ marriage.

By Edilson Afonso Ferreira.

Published Newsletter TWJ Magazine, October 2014.

http://www.twjmag.com.

Published in The Lake, October 2015 issue.

http://www.thelakepoetry.co.uk

People never at least imagine the way the two of us live.

Here we remain for so long, hidden and anonymous,

sheltered by these mountains and this incredible sky,

living side by side and close enough one to the other.

I am afraid someone might feel on the air some trace

denouncing somewhere lasts a bit of the Lost Paradise.

May fate be able to keep our country veiled forever,

for the welfare of all of them.

Foreigners’ eyes and hearts do not work like ours.

If they arrive, never would learn to walk our ways,

and we would regret seeing them stumble and stumble.

 Published in Amomancies, 18-04-2015.

There are some secrets that belong only to us,

like our love’s beginning – how, when, where.

They must be surely concealed from everyone,

for people never would understand that story.

Flame that rounded us like sacred aureole,

sternly, firmly and mercilessly imprisoning.

Unknown power coming from so long past

that shoved us into passionate inner circle.

No one knows,

at least fancies,

on that first day,

what kind of fire blessed us forever.

Published in Amomancies, print and online issue April 21, 2015.

http://www.amomancies.com

We cannot share with companions

that we do not catch a glimpse

of our journey’s end,

what or where we are going to.

Like human primeval hordes

we continue to come and go

on hidden crowd’s desires,

sometimes-guileful ones.

In despite of the feeling

we are pursuing threads

in old Greek a labyrinth,

we believe there is a sense

in such comings and goings.

Since this is matter of faith,

not suitable to science eyes,

it must be kept by few of us.

Published in The Stare’s Nest, February 26, 2015.

http://www.thestaresnest.com