thousands of miles
countless years
cannot soothe
an aching heart
memory
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
those eyes
it’s the eyes
that stay
with you
there in the night
no matter how long
ago how far
away
those eyes
of all those lost
to the years
stay with you
there
in the night
what’s not important
deleting photos
emptying boxes
discarding files
not obliviating the past
just eliminating
what’s not important
to keep
after T.S. Eliot: words echo
words echo
stirring dust
causing shadows
to move on walls
of memory
the flea market
a 15 cent
NYC token
a small black purse
of old coins
a Boy Scout knife
a letter opener
old pocket watches
a broken gold chain
items of forgotten lives
for sale
that song
that song
wafting
through the rooms
brought you
to mind
and all I left
somewhere behind
Leonard Durso 