Along The Bosphorus

 

 

Something in me is chilled
by things too pat and permanent . . .

And so here is this merely skimming
through, a fancy flowing on
    so impalpable and effluvial,
        so forgettable its flimsy vestiges
            threaten to hang on.

This ferry furrowing through the
  Bosphorus straddling between
    heart and mind pulling us
      from one continent to another
        in a pulsating wavelike dancing
          in a matter of minutes, as
            we take in rapid glimpses
              peripheral to our
                laughter and
                  senseless chatter,
                    of the Beylerberi,
                      and ancient castles
                        and pavilions
                          rimming our stunned
                            sun-glazed eyes---
races with our heartbeats, wayward
into an early afternoon ambivalence.
Time sifts right through
and the strait flows on
as soon as we are off to dock
into a shore that keeps moving on
pulling off to a curb
our hearts remaining tipsily adrift.

 

by Ophelia A. Dimalanta