A Sheep in Tigers Clothing

Like the Berlin Wall,
I have come crashing down.

In Havana,
My soul is content,
And I wish to speak with Hemingway;

He would understand!

Czeslaw Niemen,
Begging me back to Poland,
Bialogard’s simplicity and hope.

Not yet having seen,
Bratislava,
I know I would lap in its beauty,
And its pain.

Barcelona,
Oh Barcelona,
I and I unfinished,
Like Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia,
A work in progress.

A sheep in tigers clothing,
I participate,
In my own rebirth.

SDM