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A Haya
Poems
Dec 2015
Epiphany at 11:59 P.M.
Mangled, bony fingers, groveling
for lapping water, a dendritic rivulet
ceases its division for no one
I powder the amethysts for sand, for
only the sensation of opulence, anywise
the silver tarnishes in abundance
And what's the worst I'd ever seen
if not our maize sun ashen, drained of its
rise and incentive to foster grass
Written by
A Haya
Riyadh, Saudi Arabia
(Riyadh, Saudi Arabia)
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