 
When the world drifts away from our eyes
 
Say, on one of a thousand nights
 
There begins a dream within a dream
 
It's spring
We wake up listening to a garden
that solitary
 
 
 
The wisteria vine in full blossom
Fruit reddening on the bough
I'm local.
Like a slice of Trabzon cheese
A tuft of mohair
A pinch of rye
A handful of Şile cotton
I smile at you all in good will.
 
 
