David Pratt
Aegean Wind
A rooster crows. Then another.
And then a chorus. A donkey brays.
I turn on the light. It’s 2 a.m.
The wind has risen; a shutter bangs.
I step out on the rooftop and begin
to take my laundry off the line.
A cuticle of moon above the ruined fort
illuminates white houses
tumbling down the hill like sugar cubes.
Was it the wind that woke me,
or was it what she said today ?
“When we travelled the road to Peshawar
we had to drive on the left;
when he couldn’t see the road ahead
he would say, ‘You are my eyes.’
It’s hard remembering this
Because when they killed him
they also shot him through the eyes.”
The wind is from the east,
and from the east no sign of light.
A dog begins to bark. A rooster crows.
I will not sleep again tonight.
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