Wales to Egypt

March 26, 2008

As with Aberystwith,
we find it quite insistent
in our spaces of
remembering:

The small stone house
with it’s hard to light engine,
cold pine floor,
but warm kitchen –

is the same –

as the carpet covered lift,
seventh floor balcony, huge room
with the white sheets, tea
we got from room service.

We have vivid memories –

of cycling down hill,
rain hammering –
plastic rivers over overalls
collecting in the collars of our hoods.

We have vivid memories –

of Hatshepsuit – the female ruler with the
stone beard. The wedding cake of
wide stairs, Egyptian children
running down them with their –

arms spread full tilt.

At 5 in the morning,
listening to the – sigh of traffic –
waiting for the – sky to lighten
meaning work –

I can’t not think –

of the wind trapped hill, walk along the Nile,
man who asked for money
’cause he knew us from the
hotel.

I can’t not think

of the place we bought the calibir
the freezing cold November pier
the crammed souks,
and the dark mud –

the coat I lost –

somewhere vague
between the valley
and the deep,
of the burnt desert.

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2 Responses to “Wales to Egypt”

  1. kebumen said

    hello..

  2. I can’t not think of them either.

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