I kneel as a child, but through the window
I look like a grown man.
Time’s slipping away.
Let the women still smell of
warm loaves of bread.
Let the darkness always be beautiful,
indecipherable, unlike the light.
I close my eyes.
After that let me be turned into water;
a river hidden in the forest, which
can be found only by those who are
Peycho Kanev is the author of 4 poetry collections and two chapbooks, published in the USA and Europe. His poems have appeared in many literary magazines, such as: Poetry Quarterly, Evergreen Review, Front Porch Review, Hiram Poetry Review, Hawaii Review, Barrow Street, Sheepshead Review, Off the Coast, The Adirondack Review, Sierra Nevada Review, The Cleveland Review and many others. He has three nominations for the Pushcart Prize.