Saturday, March 16, 2024

A SPRING POEM FROM 2020

 

Under a blazing morning star,
a faint glow rises in the east.

From the highest branch,
a winged muezzin calls out over a quiet land. 

A new day has arrived, for all,
our wheel of fate whirls.

Every day is a gamble,
the house always wins.

Yet awakened by the morning call,
an inward smile, siamo qui.

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