28 Monday Apr 2014
Posted in Turkey
Tags
Anatolia, Minaret, Oasis, Old Wagon Lit, Orient Express, Station, Train, Travel
The ancient roundness of Anatolia
observed only in the dun-colored monochrome
of late August and September
leaves behind in memory
a misleading monotony.
But threaded like beads of colorful montages
are the dazzling appearances of minaret-topped villages.
Our train pauses for the momentary recognition
then moves on to the next station,
the next oasis.
ARW
1990
28 Monday Apr 2014
Posted in Turkey
Our train to Ergani and the past
Pauses, sometimes for hours
On a siding to nowhere
Waiting patiently so patiently
In the indescribable silence
Of a long Anatolian night
For the train to Ankara and the benighted present
Which will free the long and silvered rails
That allow but one journey at a time.
ARW
1994
28 Monday Apr 2014
Posted in Turkey
I cannot say
Just what it is that starts the journey back
To those Anatolian nights on the ratchety and ancient train
Dreams not summoned but filled with sounds and scents
Even the night light is different
The moon larger
the shadows of hills more defined
Voices from the darkness of the compartment
Comrades from the years of uncovering the past
Scattered, gone on to other places
Other worlds.
ARW
1998
28 Monday Apr 2014
Posted in Turkey
Our train to Ergani and the past
Pauses, sometimes for hours,
On a siding to nowhere
Waiting patiently so patiently
In the indescribably silence
Of a long Anatolian night
For the train to Ankara and the benighted present
That will free the long and silvered rails
Which allow one journey at a time.
ARW
1994
Andree Robitaille Wood 