Shopping Cart
Your Cart is Empty
Quantity:
Subtotal
Taxes
Shipping
Total
There was an error with PayPalClick here to try again
CelebrateThank you for your business!You should be receiving an order confirmation from Paypal shortly.Exit Shopping Cart

 Michael H. Levin: Poems and Prose  

ANATOLIA

(Homage to Omar Khayyam)

The goddess folds her golden wings

across the lintel of the sky

as light retreats from hummocked hills,

called inward by the muezzin’s cry.


Bleached scents of climbing roses flow

on rivulets of air past low

domed tombs, reminders that the writs

of Mahmoud and of Suleiman


ran here. Reminders too, the slow-

paced arabesques of inlaid rooms,

the oriental glide in which

Roxana’s viziers survive.


By dark possessed, in buried caves

and tumuli more ancient beings

persist, ceramic limbs clasped tight

or raised. To whom they prayed -- all vows –


whatever sought -- now smothered in

the drift of years: faith’s sleight-of-hand

made manifest. All fades: all gods,

each columned hall and blue


pavilion. The lords of over-

lords are shards. Caught in a closing

noose of sight between arched entrances

and trapdoors of goodbye, we sift


such matters fruitlessly – small things

that perch, then fly. The goddess says:

Hold fast and sing, and sing again

beneath the Bowl of Night -- lift high


the Cup; though answered only by an

echo; by the desert breeze’s sigh.

First published in The Federal Poet, Vol. LXXV (Spring 2019) 

0