Words by Celia de Fréine

for Ilhan Sami Çomak

	It was a chance encounter – I was taking 
	my usual walk, he was visiting for the day. 
	The hills could be seen in the distance, 
	linking sides all the way up the coast.

	We stood there for about fifteen minutes, 
	deep in conversation, both of us knowing 
	our paths would never cross again. 
	I have no idea of what was said, only that 

	our words echoed off each other, rose up 
	to create a cloud-shadow 
	that turned the hills to memory-blue.
	For months now I have searched for words 

	to send you, having forgotten that what 
	is said is less important than the saying 
	of it which, when well-intentioned, 
	forms a cloud-shadow that changes 

	the landscape, be it the hillside 
	of bygone days or the future-gorse 
	out on the island, turned to deepest gold. 

					
						

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