the poetry nugget

Feeling lost in this city of 100 spires,  my memories vague,  pale pre-pixelated images pass quickly, I grasp a few. My first view is the wide Vlata river and the Charles Bridge, its postcard symbol. The hourly apparition of the twelve apostles; the steep climb to the highnest hill, my aerie; the synagogue where Kafka's Golem resides; in the sunlight, the Cathedral reveals the translucent colors of stained glass; at night, opaque and dark.                                 The streets, silent, all doors, locked. Not long ago, in the spring of 1968, young men and women gathered here, with hope for freedom. ..

The bus takes us to Jadovno, the site of a World War II camp. The outline of the structures remain, despite the years of neglect. The Austrian guide with cold blue Aryan eyes says it was a work camp. There are deep ravines close, some filled with concrete; we sense something more sinister. Usually we chat and joke, but today, we are quiet and walk carefully, not to disturb the spirits here.

I sit in the bar of our hotel in Ljubljana, the local boys chant “Pistol Pete Maravich," a popular NBA player with Yugoslavian roots. That's all their English, which is more than my Slovene. I sip a lemon-lime drink and chat with my friend Cindy. I lost contact with her, the mail returned, “forwarding address expired”, Pistol Pete died before his time, and Yugoslavia no longer exists.

left as a newborn in the hospital, I learned early love is conditional. the snap of a voice, like a rubber band at close range, the rawness of anger, like a sharp edged razor, the sting of impending loss, the tape plays in my head. no matter my age, the loop repeats, there is no safe place for damaged goods.

Umbrarum* Today at the cemetery, worn stones, smudged engravings, in harmony with the fall of leaves, yellow and brown, the grass surrenders the last of its dun, all is muted as the summer declines. Darkness stretches to its full length. Spirits shake off the dirt and speak in a language only heard by those who dare to press their ears to the veil. *Latin, of the Shades

angels at the beginning and the end... and spirits inbetween...