Memory Drips Like Water Through Limestone
Tuesday, January 31st, 2006Suddenly the guide switched on the lights,
Revealing a fantastic chamber …
Suddenly the guide switched on the lights,
Revealing a fantastic chamber …
I rested till grave robbers stole into the tomb…
Long before the Romans came, this place was sacred.
What’s missing? Not a friend …
“This rug is Eastern Anatolian, seventy years old,”the merchant says …
“A dog raced through a cathedral…”
This old canoe and I have drifted to the middle of the lake…
I’m sitting on a chair-shaped rock…
Ungainly silver airborne thug…
Early in the century’s first morning
we are its first pedestrians.