This poetry collection is a lyrical record of life in the small village of Sklithron (Zeleniche) in Western Macedonia (Greece), and of the journey of emigration to an adopted homeland, Canada. Through memory, place, and longing, these poems honour the people and everyday moments that shaped a generation.
Written by Kosmas Yotis, this collection preserves the voice of village life and the experience of leaving home—carrying the past forward while building a new life abroad.
PROLOGUE
The poems within this website
Aim to capture memories
They create a moment in time
And instill a sense of nostalgia
Those written to remind us
Of other eras
Old friends, old neighbourhoods
And forgotten feelings
To make us laugh and to make us cry
And to shout with joy
This book is also
A reminder of the fact
That when we were growing up
Many of the stories we heard
Were something more than stories
They were lived experiences
From our families
Experiences that shaped
Not only their values
But also their character
As well as
These poems will be
Stories and experiences
That will pass on to the next generation
And help strengthen
The enduring bond Between grandparent and grandchild
When I was a little boy An empty can was my favourite toy I would tie it on a homemade rope And drag it along the cobble stone road One morning as I woke up I found my can was stolen I told my father to hurry up As I heard my can rolling Now that I am seventy years old And I write this on my iPad I am thinking Who was that little boy This can’t be the same world
My first ride on a bus One summer day Off to camp we were Without any delay We were all skinny kids Full of ambition Ready for any blitz But all malnutrition We climbed the high mountain The air was so very fresh The camp had one big fountain And surrounded by wire mesh We ate four times a day Well prepared food Each had their own tray Life was going to be so good After a couple days We started ...
One hot summer day It was the month of July The grandchildren came to play Carrying all their supplies They all sat in each corner With their smart phone at hand I felt like a foreigner Trying to grasp and understand One was beeping from here The other was tweeting from there All the pleasing sounds I could hear Was all new music to my ear They would communicate with each other Without saying a ...
If I was a good shepherd And had a herd of sheep Protect them all and guide them The baby lambs I would keep I would carry them on my back So vulnerable and mighty Safe in the round coral No matter black or white Away from all butchers From villages and towns And the hungry smoochers Carnivores and clowns I watch them run around My green meadow field Protect from rabbits and hounds Inside my ...
The pillar of the home That is supposed to be the father That’s supporting the dome Like there is no other As the pillar gets old And cracks appear all over He is no longer bold Seeks help from the mother To hold the weight of the roof Takes both of them together They really need each other Now more than ever
Happiness is hearing the children play On a warm summer day And watch their twilight unfold So innocent and gay To see the happiness in their face Run tirelessly around No matter what colour or race They immediately all bound
