Beyond
Just having presence
In that thriving,
Throbbing Heart
Of both a nation
And a nightmare;

It is not walls
Nor gates, nor ruins,
Castles, churches, operas,
Nor even Nefertiti
That haunt me
Seven years afterward;

But the soulful
Night-long warbling
Of a Nightingale,

Floating freely
In and out of dreams
In the cramped
And stony confines
Of our Hostel's
Inner court.

07/20/2003

Author's Note: memory

Posted on 07/21/2003
Copyright © 2024 Leonard M Hawkes