Dearest Giedre gave me a book of haikus written by Lithuanians about Vilnius before I left last week. Once I finished reading it, this was my response:
Vilnius
Breathe in -- snow clings to
eyelashes, afraid to be
muddy by morning.
Pink dawn comes early.
The color that fights cold air,
loses gracefully.
Like a child she
dances free but with distance
and I feel younger
before now and was:
spring comes certain, and comes with
their ancestor's songs.
Under the dead Duke
Inesa and I sing; they
clap to my rhythm.
Polarized glass rocks;
dark chocolate Baltijos
rolls on down my throat.
Father says life is harder
for children born today. Still,
it's good to be free.
Village peace: Merkys
stops my heart, cold. Survival:
rye flower's hot kiss.
I weep dry tears, lost.
He thinks Lietuva will
weep to lose a friend.
The street is alive;
people unmet: good reasons
to return -- breathe out.
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