Tuesday, April 21, 2009


In Samarkand
On a tamarind
Tree is etched a name
I cannot find
Else outside my mind.

In the town square
I played a violin
In my head, leaning
It to the wrong
Side. That’s how you came
Laughing in Samarkand

In Samarkand
The wind
Blows the mane
Of stallion or mare
Even when there is
No breeze

God who in a nightmare
Did not exist
Was sufficiently kind
To make you not so much his
As mine
In Samarkand

In Samarkand
God was in a bind.
If the city too does not exist
I cannot have a fact wrong
I’m certain I have here and there
So why Samarkand?

You fall behind
As we run in the rain
And I stop
For you to catch up
In Samarkand.

© 2008 Zamboanga Writers |

Cesar Ruiz Aquino

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