Monday, August 11, 2008

Mahmoud Darwich 1941-2008

And coffee swirls to mud
The smoke circles up mourning clouds
And I’m left gasping at somber news
The death comes an unbound burn
And he’s gone to join his immortal olive trees
The roots cut and dust replaces our precious fruit





1 comment:

Scent of the Levant said...

It's a bit ironic how we dont come to notice people until they are gone...