there is laughter
children’s voices
rise and fall
in the morning mist
my mind drifts
hearing other voices
in the mist
of time
so long ago
memory
after Liu Tsung-yuan: holding back tears
gazing at a picture
taken years ago
you dancing in apron
a holiday meal
among family
many of whom
are gone like you
it’s hard
holding back tears
knowing never to see
you dancing again
or singing off-key
those Italian songs
echoing in a house
no longer mine
from a line by Li Po: aching heart
thousands of miles
countless years
cannot soothe
an aching heart
last words
your last words
crumbs in my mouth
failing to fill
the void
you left behind
in the air
what is left
a faint wiff
of perfume
in the air
between then
and now
a long time in passing
a little black dress
the wiff of perfume
in the air
as she passes
and suddenly
there you are
front and center
in my memory
and this night
will be a long time
in passing
following Li Po’s lead: to those left behind: on this Easter Sunday in Istanbul, 2019
you are all there
in dreams
our youth on display
strength resting still
in these arms
weaker with age
there is music
Mom dancing in apron
as she sings off-key
to Al Martino
my brothers my sister
nieces and nephews
that long extended table
Charlie Aunt Mary
Grandma’s raviolis
filling the plates
seconds thirds
the turkey the broccoli
sausage and peppers
coffee and cake
platters of fruit
peanut shells and walnuts
George playing The Four Seasons
Johnny teasing Robert
Robert sighs dramatically
into his glass of wine
and I laugh
oh I laugh
waking with tears
in my eyes
Easter Sunday
in Istanbul
so very far
so very long
away
