Edebî Kahve

Keşke bilsen. Bir kirpi gibi mevsim degişirken dikenlerimi döküyorum. Yırtıcı bir kuş, ya da bir tilki oradan oraya savurur yuvarlak, dikenli ve korkak bir ben. Geceleri ortaya çıkan: sessizlik içimdeki derin yırtık. Hala bildiğin o kız, lakin cümleleri aksak içi yumuşak, dışı batınca acıtan dikenli bir kabuk. Huzuru kanatır gene vazgeçmez, sokulur koynuna yusyuvarlak. . Meva Ayse O.

Patience by Kay Ryan Patience is wider than one once envisioned, with ribbons of rivers and distant ranges and tasks undertaken and finished with modest relish by natives in their native dress. Who would have guessed it possible that waiting is sustainable— a place with its own harvests. Or that in time's fullness the diamonds of patience couldn't be distinguished from the genuine in brilliance or hardness. Kay Ryan is a poet worth discovering. I found her poetry and imagery witty and rich although she uses few words. Less is more, is her motto. But she does it such gracefully that her poem does not loose deeper meanings they are endowed with. Intact, without much words but with well-chosen verbs, adjectives, names she delves us ito another realm.