Splashing water, and silence, and breeze.
Two countries half-erased. I’m alone.
See, that pall crawling to the shores will soon turn the city into a milky-gray turbid mass.
Not spying at all, a dragonfly will fly up to explore me.
I’ll close my eyes –
And from the fields of past days,
The unplowed fields,
The voices of semi-drunken guests of my earlier life will reach me here,
Along with rings of smoke, the woods, the night,
The bonfire and the sweet pilaf,
The sounds of strings, the meaning of lyrics,
And someone’s blue look across the fire.
Two half-lifetimes ago.