Sunday, August 11, 2013

To the Beauty of Odessa

What does one say when this far off?
The sea might be simple to touch from here.
The water rising behind you could be
all that separates you from the old man
sitting on the bench, who may be feeling
a nostalgia for his youth, having glimpsed
the blue soul in your blue dress. Or you may
be the spirit that brings him back to life,
jarring his sorrow into happiness.
Having nearly reached the sky’s reflection
in the water flaring up out of the stone
fountain, would he translate what he sees deep
in silence, wedding it with memory,
if you spoke to him on your way by?

(11 August 2013)

copyright 2013 by Floyce Alexander

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