Buda

step stone streets of Buda breeze up here hills both sides and i squint
to see my return here, a time i finally feel at home is a time i refeel the grooves of an already found vár-- when i come home, i think, to this place is when maybe i will feel i already belong.
whistful for... whistful, the hand to hold of a love here the day maybe will come and what then could i show the fall in hungary the duna's dance the peace of st. stephen's the wine of eger or:
(my heart in a place yet not my home)
a mute vision across uninhabited lands.
when i arrive i will return to this város and find anew a belle ville, spots alighting candlewalks on the river hands together clutching there love for one city more one moment more one...
whistful breath of a moment unkept a promise yet unmade snow unformed
on the last day
in the last park
skating
on the ice.