Three Poems

REMOTENESS

       Impedimenta of the self
Left behind somewhere, or traded
For a bag with good straps, a book of Turkish proverbs,
Sandals of proven leather, change of habit,
   A bottle of water called, yes, "life"
In the language of the country - pine trees
          stenciled on the glass.

Last Thursday you were standing by a puddle
       in Istanbul asking a question:
"Why am I not home now where I should be?"
Now you're east into Asia, hearing absently
        alien conjugations,
Hoping this bus won't dizzy off this mountain.

      "So you think you're a fish now?"
      "It's true that time is a river."
...