remembering Balat and my favorite place to it
hopscotch and football
barbecues on miniature grills
wood smoke in the eyes
kebab in the air
a young man dives into the water
drums beat out a rhythm
hands clap
a young girl dances
simits and cay
and I get the last bench left
in the shade
a whole neighborhood is here
along with portable toilets
spring on parade
in ancient Balat
Until now, I didn’t know what simits & cay were, but I do now. Such a wonderful poem of joy and good times!
Thanks, Michael. By the way, I will respond to your email/message but from my gmail address this weekend.
At your leisure. Thanks.
Wonderful sounds like a neighborhood pool party. Well it made me think of them. 😄
Wonderful!
Thank you.