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Today the muezzin will not call the faithful to prayer
I will pass no donkey carts, no poppy fields Old men with faces like leather will not sit drinking tea by the road Wagonsfull of women in headscarves will not wave at me There will be no green figs for breakfast, no green plums, no goat cheese, no olives I will not look up from my book to see Russian freighters in the Bosphorus I will not kneel in the Blue mosque, or the Aya Sophia No one will speak to me in Turkish, or in Greek, nor will I answer them in kind I am home, home again, after long and long I will listen to the mockingbird in the bougainvillea I will watch the redtail hawk glide in circles over the eucalyptus I will hear the voice of a friend, stare at a glowing screen filled with e-mail, exchange day for night in the rythms of mind and body I am home, home again, and expect to arrive here shortly Copyright 2000 by Steven Gulie |