Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Zanna, Hello and Goodbye, 6.30 am

My friend,

The young Kurd who works
A daily twelve-hour shift

At the local service station,
Has been on duty long before daybreak,

But as my bicycle is not
An automobile

And thus needs nothing
But air, he remains

In his cubicle and continues
Listening to songs

Of the motherland. Still, I know
He keeps an eye out for me

For when I leave,
I see an upright hand

Waving in the air.

3 comments:

  1. This is perfection, my friend. How do you stand yourself? No, really—an amazing poem....

    ReplyDelete
  2. I can just picture this scene, down to the last detail. I agree with Joe. Amazing.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Dear friends,

    Perhaps......but not as amazing as your grace, for which I thank you.

    ReplyDelete

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