Odessa Lost

Where are you my
wounded urchin?
The winter's frostbite
has dulled my fingertips
and I find no solace
in my tea.

I look but you are
nowhere;
still the sting of your echo is
everywhere.

The gold of the wheat fields,
tamed by the memory of
your hair, has lost its luster.

The rhythm of the tram
lulls me to times
where the sound
of bells was sweet and
our laughter was deep.

Oh how I long to distill
that essence in a jar
so that I might
open it at midnight,
and breathe in the elixir
of such errant delight.

Each night I search for
you kisa, in the
pages of Vechernyaya Odessa,
hunting for you between the lines.

I weep in earnest for your return.

Reviews

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

What a beautiful piece of poetry that I just happened to stumble upon! What a treat are your words. You have a mournful and yet tenderly sublime style that I fall right into; reminds me a little of my own style on ocassion (though i am far more wordy, I'm afraid). You seem a poet unfraid to bend the rules, and that is what enthrals me the most. Well done.

[icelandicblue]

Thank you so much for your thoughtful and kind review. I look forward to reading your work.

[TL Boehm]

Oh how I long to distill
that essence in a jar
so that I might
open it at midnight,
and breathe in the elixir
of such errant delight.
a strong, melancholy write. "the sting of your echo" love that line too. I liked the way this was structured - the little ordinary moments that bring back a person - I am often reminded of those who are no longer with me or situations by little things, the smell of potato soup, cotton wood fluff, grasshoppers thunking against my windshield while driving through the west Texas wasteland on my way to anywhere else...that kind of presence made this poem breathe for me. Beautiful

[icelandicblue]

Hello!

Thank you so much TL and I am so happy that you stopped by to read and leave such a kind comment.

[Pete Langley]

You sound like you are pining for your childhood and the memory of a childhood friend or even brother or sister, back in the same location of your cherished memories. Whatever the source, this piece glistens the eye of any reader who is separated from a dear one. Thank you, Blue. P.

[icelandicblue]

I am touched by your response. Thanks Pete.

[quinfinn]

excellent...i took away from this, the longing of an individual to reconnect with their soul, with the youthful , playful and joyous imp of many years passed....and a desire to rediscover the exuberance of careless and reckless youth...perhaps a place we find only in our dreams, hence the nightly search in places obscure and names unfamiliar....however interpreted, and i can see many possibilities here, this is a gorgeous piece of writing and deserves a place over the mantle....well done. thank you for sharing this with me.

[icelandicblue]

I love your take on this. Thank you so much for reading this.

[quinfinn]

a real pleasure...i assure you!

[Jack...]

Honestly, this was a magical journey, my mind was enchanted with wonderful designs and patterns as I read this. Very nice.

[icelandicblue]

Why thank you very much! This one is special to me.

[Jack...]

I can see why

[Faith]

Beautiful. Very well thought out and meaningful.

[icelandicblue]

Thanks for the read.

[Lonesome Traveler]

"hunting for you between the line."

I really like how you've written this poem, so searching, so true, so echoing. Even the structure manages to conjure up images of a swinging torchlight on a moonless night.

[icelandicblue]

Thank you Lonesome Traveler, I love the image you have conjured here as well.
Thank you so much for commenting.

[Creepy Swine Guy]

The feel of longing and mourning something lost is palpable, and so I find myself wondering ... looking for hints ... searching. Is this specifically about Boris Derevyanko? Is it about the newspaper itself? I see the reference to the tram and breathing in the elixir, which could be something as simple as the smell of the fresh newspaper. I could be waaaaay off here, but forgive me, I am a slow-witted old man.

[icelandicblue]

I am of the school that the poem can mean whatever it does to the reader. I think you make some excellent points and connections and I really like your interpretation of the poem. Thank you for giving such wonderful reviews.

[icelandicblue]

I just reread your inquiry. It is about searching for a friend in a bleak backdrop. The paper actually exists but is used more as a poetic vehicle, and I don't think you are slow-witted at all. I do seem to write in a cryptic manner- I just can't help myself. ; )

[icelandicblue]

My own mind is a mystery to me sometimes!

[KAOlmsted]

"...still the sting of your echo is everywhere..."

This is a truly well written piece. Just amazing. Thank you so much for sharing it with us.