Down cobbled lanes bequeathed with history, alive with the indulgence of thin cut fritz, mayonnaise dipped, Duvall and Hoegaarden, full of grand choices, Belgium waffles with sugar clusters that coddle my soul on brusque wintry Antwerp days, a chocolate booth styles charming assortments of chocolates with parfait fillings. But the warmth from decadence, antique alleys and gothic facades leaves me wanting. For the sun has been hidden for six months, blocked by a low ceiling of dense grey cloud. Only on flying through the bleak barrier, do I finally come out
to meet the sky’s blue arc
concealed below
though untouched, pristine
and yearned for waves of zonlicht
feed my dearth
