Glimmerings
By Mark Muller
Limping along, we wait for
winter’s somber skies -
its ill-tempered squalls -
to be done.
Sun emerges in
cheerful stagings
of diffused hope.
Sitting on this soft bed
of fallen leaves
in a clearing of warm sun
is easy, and it appeases
harsh winter muddles -
rising and falling
on darkness -
and the old apartness.
Spring is turning daily
towards summer’s ease -
and long crepuscular hours
of the souls’ sprightly powers.
*
Resident in Istanbul for the past twelve years, Mark Muller endeavours to understand existential conundrums in relation to history, geography and migration/exile.