September
I dreamt last night
of autumn leaves
that passed me by
like dreams of my youth,
floating,
on a stream near my woods.
There were reds, greens, oranges,
glorious creations,
distracting me from my dhikr
of Ramadan.
Cold november rain
falls on my face,
as I hurry to the Eid prayer.
How much time has passed,
I can’t remember,
since Eid was once in summer?
Icicles cover every bare tree in
shattering beauty.
January winds make them tinkle
as I walk to class,
I think of Hajjis.
March, another birthday
can I ask time to stop?
Even from me it turns
a cold shoulder.
The world turns verdant and
one small violet flower in my yard
struggles upwards.
Doesn’t she know it’s only May?
Wild strawberries and
endless sun,
weddings every weekend.
Are these tears of happiness, sadness
or summer rain?
It does not matter
for
it is September again.
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