Jeweler in Istanbul

Away from the morning blaze, parallel

to the district of hotels, quite

special: under a bridge, flanked by minarets,

—that tiny shop that belongs to

the jeweler unknown.

 

Endless tinkerer of form,

shaping her style in ribbons,

bead crochets, hammered earrings,

blue ceramic eyes needled in,—protected

 

from the smells of döner and lahmacun.…

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