The Fortune Teller
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The Fortune Teller

 Sonia Saikaley
 Sonia Saikaley
The Fortune Teller
by Sonia Saikaley  FollowFollow
Sonia Saikaley has lived in Japan, where she taught English, ate sushi, dreamt Basho and found the solitude to write. She has also gotten more in the alleys of Venice but found an amazing pizzeria. Now, in Ottawa, Canada, she finds herself surrounded by her big Lebanese family and amidst the chaos and joy, she writes.
The Fortune Teller
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She picks up the tiny teacup
reads cracked lines
of leftover Turkish coffee.

A gypsy, wanderer by trade
she travelled to Turkey, Syria, Lebanon
belly-danced in taverns,
then ended up in eastern Ontario.

But her wedding band bruised her finger.
She left her husband
with glacier winds swirling her hair,
phantom aromas of garlic, allspice, mint
lingered in dark strands
now silver,
she pulls at them and peers
into the cup again,
strains sunken eyes

Once beautiful, village men sang
love ballads, strummed fingers on guitars
that later pressed into her olive skin.

Now old eyes look deep into the cup.
She leans forward,
elbows on table edge,
her wrinkled fingers entwine.
She tries to read her fate
but sees nothing,
only remnants of caffeine.


  2 years ago
Great! I love this. So well painted. Love how the poem sets up her past so vividly...only to lose the future in the empty mouth of the teacup.

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