Lost to me
in the churn of waves,
the chug of ferries,
the cries of seabirds
seeking glittering prizes
from fishers or litterers...
Lost is the thought
in the steam unfurling
from the small pool
of rich dark coffee
trembling in its cup
under Galatasaray Bridge...
Lost is the diviner
of the little meal
the figs and dates
the clear water
joining the jelly cube
on a table on a bridge on the water
Lost is the maker
of the glowing amber
pink cube resting
in its powder cape
rising to my teeth
as I bite into Turkish Delight
(Image by Caner Carkisi from Pexels)
((image by Caner Cankisi from Pexels))
