Reading time: less than a minute (My father told me there’ll be days like this.)
Heaven is filled with selfish and self-indulgent poets.
I love dusk over dawn.
I abhor crowded rooms.
I fear tunnels and crave the solitude, of my amber cave.
The silence will repair me. What is new, I knew.
Dreams fade in the orange glow of dawn. Never memory.
Too bad, too.
In October, more orange on the earth. Screaming:
Come play with us on the steps,
Of the brownstones across the street,
so we are not lonely with the men, dressed as skeletons, laughing at the seminary windows.
I don’t want to be alone, but
to be left alone, to enjoy the joy
ginger brings with my first cup
taking with her my solitude, at last.
Cloudy days fade, taking my tears, angels
yelling at me:
Fear is fast a ghost,
and it is time for the next sip
from the dallah:
Selah.
Philippe du Col © 2024
HaMasheem (gedud_50), and children