Echoes and Confessions

From Istanbul, young dogs in a switch yard
Watched boy artists paint portraits of yellow cranes.
I waited alone by club car’s window,
Deep in Persia,
1951,
Done, then gone for a movie set; come what may.

Hands released brakes, train started soft billow,
Began our journey with
Steam whistle’s song.

Dove twilight lit ash that matched my mood -
Glanced at dark youthful man sitting at polished bar.
He toasted me, raised crystal in hand,
And he rose,
Asked that he could stay,
And wondered if he might buy a round if he could.

He sang sweet of Pearl, dear Caitlín, his wife,
Faded dreams far away as we rode through blue night,
Recounted long travels one after one
As I listened,
Felt echoed beat of wheels,
Brothers by common circumstance, telling great lies.

He glanced all around, then confessed to me
In coarse, back-room smoked whiskey laughter...

‘I broke the one rule they so thought was right -
Never once did write in
My native tongue.’

Weary look drew over bleared face as his eyes shut…

Brown glass close to fist, he groaned, clear voice did break
As he spoke long held thoughts
With fallen brow.

Sighed, stared at me, spoke final words
With a hoarse, liquor-soaked, melodic chant -

‘Stark nights do not grow gentle, or good,
However closer you go to that sightless mark.’
Then opened reddened eyes, weeping hard,
And he rose
Paced fast, crossed parquet,
And suddenly left me, striding quick as he could.

Though I looked for him when I reached Teheran
My searches through souk and bazaar didn’t find him.
From this stage to that, I kept on the run
Always hoping…
But fate sealed
That which drink could not cure, nor what cotton wool buys.

I think of him when I can’t push my pen,
The sentence in life he’d
Borne, broken down.

I posted remorse to his widow -
On chill Wales coast where black-wingéd gulls had cried his name
Above worn, rain-veiled streets, stone quays of Laugharne
And he rose,
1953,
And strode alone to darkened water, come what may.

With appreciation for, and in remembrance of, Dylan Thomas