It was a beautiful night,
Which is rare in this city.
A full moon illuminated
The dark sky with great
Brilliance like a devine
Light bulb hanging over
The earth from heaven.
Not a single star out,
But that wasn't new
For big old Cairo.
A light breeze blew
By as I stood in the
Balcony of my family's
5th floor apartment
With winter's shy
Fingertips touching
The air around me.
I took a deep lung-full
Of this beautiful weather
And coughed like an
Eighty year old man
Suffering form mean
Tuberculosis.

The burning of the
Rice hay, they say.