a scared dog barks
at shadows
while this old man
walks this street
down the hill
then up
the street mostly deserted
except for feral cats
and sleeping dogs
and the water truck
out hosing down
the street and sidewalk
an occasional hooded spectre
sipping beer
or coffee in a paper cup
occupying one of many benches
that line the street
for old people
like me
to catch their breath on
before trudging along
among these denizens
of Moda
in the early morning
on any given day
early morning
still drunk, Tuesday morning, Moda
he weaves
down the street
still drunk
in the early morning
mumbling about
what ails him
fists flailing awkwardly
through the air
while the other early morning strollers
cross the street
and walk a bit faster
he stumbles
down a side street
and disappears
into the darkness
of his mind
life, man
it’s five o’clock
in the morning
I put the book down
look at the cat
and say
now that’s something
he looks at me
as if to say wtf
blinks
and goes back to sleep
life, man
can’t be anthing else
on the balcony waiting for morning:Maltepe, March 23
insulated
in sweats
against cool air
watching distant lights
on Princes’ Islands
thoughts drift north
a thousand miles
only to settle
here
in this ancient city
as the morning prayer
fails to calm
this mind
trying to cope
with this broken world
momentary neighbor, 5am, Maltepe
sitting
on my balcony
staring
at the lights
on the islands
out at sea
a gull
rests a minute
on the ledge
to stare
at me
tip my glass
say hello
neighbors
this moment
in time
4:45am, June 11, 2015, in Maltepe
I stare
at lights
burning
on islands
in the sea
and listen
to the echo
of the call
to prayer
still reverberating
in my ears
South Of Barcelona by Paul Blackburn
Early morning birdsong
grey sky and chickens and rain
across the plain
tho chickens can hardly be said to sing
their sound is comforting
& homely.
The mountains inland disappear
The clouds come down.
Leonard Durso 