Traces

 
 
I am walking in your garden now in a daydream,
Following your footsteps in the green,
Trying to find you in every mark left unseen.
The rain gently washed away the dust off the fig tree this morning,
The tree once planted with your own bare hands,
Your fingerprints on the leaves, left untouched
Your love, embedded in the old paint bucket,
The bucket always kept full with water for the birds,
Now abandoned in a forgotten corner
The trees are wearing their best look at dawn,
covered in the perfume of wet soil.
The world smells like home again when washed down,
but this garden is so empty now that you are gone.
I am walking in your garden now in a daydream,
Following your footsteps in the green,
Trying to find you in every mark left unseen.
 
Bedri Azak’s garden, Turkey, 5th July 2006

Bedri Azak’s garden, Turkey, 5th July 2006

Nalan Azak recently completed her undergraduate degree in Anthropology and master’s degree in Medical Anthropology at UCL. She currently works in healthcare management as a support officer. In her free time, Nalan enjoys writing poetry, playing music, travelling, and walking in the woods.