Wednesday, August 03, 2005


I open the windows, Heat spilling bright onto jaded floors, A tree swaying with warmth, And air burning the nose with freshness. I open the windows, I hear life spilling in Over thresholds and terrazzo, And yellow glow. A cage of thin black wire Missing its bird, Cards spread on a chaffing table With the chaos of fate. A scream, a chuckle, A wrinkled grin, And graying hair Brimming with age. An old stone bench awaits them, A feeling so new it tingles. All spread beyond, like hope Of another life, another tomorrow, Another place.


Anonymous said...

Je ne sais pas. The whole thing repelled me (except for the cool "a cage missing its bird"). Too chocolat-mou.


Ton loving frère Ahmad

Anonymous said...

Shoot! Only now did I notice that I misquoted the cage and the bird thing. How silly of me.

But I did it out of love. Hehe.

Ton frère Ahmad

arch.memory said...

Yeah, I know what you mean. Too chocolat-mou for me, too...