It’s 4 am
No sun yet
He doesn’t want to wake up
Now sing the birds
They flap outside
chasing one another
trying to wake him up
But nobody cares
Now street trees murmur
and wind blows
into them
shaking their thick stems and wither leaves
trying not to distress his sleep
Breeze comes in from the cracked window.
above his head
He wants to wake up
to see the birds
to listen to the rustling of leaves
to feel the wind
but he can’t anyway
Breeze talks to him
gently talks to him
and it takes him away
“God bless your soul, Grandfather.” I pray, shedding tears.

Mohammed Arafat
January 26th, 2020