there’s a tendency
for these old bones
to linger too long
in those dreams
of the night
other writing
only because
falling in love
with an actress
in a film
only because
she reminds me
of you
this afternoon in Aliağa in January
on my balcony
I rest to listen
to the call to prayer
as the cat sleeps
on my lap
and my glass sits
half empty
on the table
in front of me
a crow perches
on the railing
we eye each other
tentatively
this afternoon
in Aliağa
in January
seeking solid ground
one walks gingerly
through the swamps
of the past
seeking solid ground
on which to build
a future
from a line by Su Tung-p’o: this dissociation
sleeping late
waking to wonder
where I am
this dissociation
a direct result
of a mind
too restless to stay
in any one place
for long
on receiving a notice for another occasion for mourning: the fog of memory
they go
those names
from the past
their faces fade
the sound of their voices
those smiles laughs
a frown or two
all lost in the fog
of memory
like the moon
you would appear
in dreams
like the moon
always beautiful
but distant
leaving me
trickling blood inside
and as I rise
from sleep
the moon fading
from sight
like your ghost
into memory
of what was
is still
which blind the eye
the pain in my left side
the result of carelessness
one must look
where one is stepping
rather than at the surrouındings
which blind the eye
the winds
let the winds
blow across
space and time
to brush the cheek
of an absent friend
a traveler embarks
mountains rivers
to cross
an ancient road
leading to cherished goods
a traveler embarks
on foot
uncertain of what awaits
at the final destination
Leonard Durso 