Almila Dükel
murmuration
approaching my apartment block, i run into a man coming out the swinging doors, glancing hurriedly at a piece of paper in his hand. he stands out, being much older than the students with whom i share the building.
“are you daniella by any chance?” he asks, gesturing at me with the paper as if it has the power to transform me into the person he wants me to be.
“no, sorry,” i reply, genuine regret in my voice. he smiles and shrugs, moving on, but i am left rooted, a sudden shock rising through me at my words. why have i apologized for not being someone else? is there already a hidden regret buried in me for the self i am? or did i, for just one moment, want to be recognized as a person with a name, after so many days of being a forgotten face in an ebbing crowd.
misted morning only the voices of barnacle geese
About the Author
Almila Dükel is a writer and poet who currently resides in Türkiye. She has had her creative work recognized in a number of international contests. Her haiku have been published in several journals, with poems appearing in Modern Haiku, Frogpond, and The Heron’s Nest, among others.