After Lunch in Old Town Bucharest – 12:32 CET @ 6,937 steps

Morning spent ambling around Old Town
First, an eggplant omelet sandwich
Then I strolled down cobblestone streets 
past 19th-century facades 

On Saturday mornings, not much opens early
However, tourists had begun to emerge 
poking into shops, galleries, and churches

After discovering a Romanian museum—
skimmed a hall of old children’s toys
Then there was a replica of Trajan’s column

Now, I’m sipping an Americano after lunch
while I swipe and type on my cell phone— 
to my right, the kitchen staff behind a glass partition
before me the espresso machine and shelves lined with alcohol
beside me, two girls chat in Romanian

I think about my uncertain future—
News of federal agencies shutting down
International students being arrested for penning essays
and the US eyeing Greenland with an imperial gaze

I think of Dacians being defeated and looted by Trajan—
their temple treasures carried off to Rome
and their god Zamolxis left to linger in folklore

I think of browsing a record store— 
flipping through racks of Romanian vinyl 
to bring with me back to Doha

I used to think that on one of these trips 
I would discover a kindred soul 
to accompany me 
on the rest of my journeys

But the truth is—
now I think that I’ll simply wander
alone through the remnants of societies 
clinging to memories of past zeniths

Another couple sit down— 
my coat in hand
waiting for my check

The server provides me a receipt 
I will never look at again

The last weeks of winter cling to the city—
Soon another spring, erasing what came before

Again, the climb—then the fall awaits us all

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Photo by Marina Zvada on Unsplash