On Kabul’s Streets

He looked at the market place And saw juvenile visages Running around with kites In their palms, waiting for lift off To cosmic galaxies of dreams As he found himself lost to a whispering voice – The mortal inside the demon – As in the prelude to fireworks of hate The waterworks of love sprang…

Anecdotes

This poem of mine is found in the book –¬†https://www.amazon.com/Land-Seas-Poetry-Refugees-ebook/dp/B01H3N1J10?ie=UTF8&%2AVersion%2A=1&%2Aentries%2A=0 They wander map-less A group of Syrian Christians Marching, plodding, waddling Past frontiers laid by two tired pupils A life that was deracinated and given heel power As they walk until the talus Bone aches and the knee joints Start to quake in subtle tremors…