I had dined on sweet baklava at Gulluoglu
Every week for years
Feeling this way... or that way.
On one cold January melancholy day,
Under threatening skies, I wore my balaclava.
And in the distance, I imagined or imagined not
That I heard Chopin's Nocturne Op. 55 No. 1.
© 2010 Marjorie Levine