the morning
holds promise
that the night
can fulfill
other writing
the memory of: 3am, January 23, Istanbul
the memory of
what lingers
on the tips
of my fingers
what sorrow
fills the chambers
of my heart
a new day: Istanbul, January 22, 2019
the sound of
a door closing
footsteps echo
in the hall
one walks away
only to walk
toward
a new day
the morning after
the heart believes
what it believes
the morning after
because the heart
has a logic
all its own
anniversaries
the 5th of the month
slipped by and I
almost unaware
of what it means meant
perhaps it was New Years
lingering still
with its too many
associations of things
gone wrong
and the knowledge
that January
has always been
for me
a long long month
to endure
with dates I cannot
confront alone
and yet alone
is how I confront
them now
the 29th still
looming in the near
future the past
and all this
other stuff
circling around
my head
cannot dim
that memory
perhaps alone
is best
because big boys
don’t
you know
at least in public
and I am
a big boy
after all
in public
these days
what lingers: for Angela
what lingers
in the mind’s eye
is the sparkle
in your eyes
Ahhh, Angela
Ahhh, Angela
angel of the evening
wrap me
in your velvet arms
lay my head
upon your tender breasts
let me sleep
like the baby
I never was
Angela’s smile
the hint of mischief
in Angela’s smile
the lips full
of playfulness
the hair framing her face
cascading on her shoulders
a leg slightly bent
she leans to one side
and promises much
in her eyes
distance vast between: reading Wei Ying-wu
the distance vast
between east and west
in miles in years
so long so far gone
yet here I sit
with coffee
laced with whiskey
listening for your voice
in these small hours
till dawn
from a line by Wei Ying-wu
ah this life
a long journey
and we travelers
stumbling along
with uncertain hearts
the wind at our backs
the sun on our faces
our eyes on the bend
in the road