Lament of the old basket seller
_________________________
Why does this city
not recognise me anymore ,
the stones of the sidewalks
know me
and my step,
the birds ....
they
know my voice
and the seasons
time me  yet ,
but , you
who do not 
buy my baskets
anymore ....
do you not know me ?
or hear my cry ....
I make the same baskets
that I have been
making
for centuries .....
same , since always 
if I never changed
why did you ?