Poems from Nizar Sartawi
The bridge gate opens
The bus shipping us
from bank to bank
slowly moves
on the border-crossing bridge
I turn my face to the left
and...
Do you remember
those late afternoons
when you and I
sat
on the edge of the cliff?
We kept our eyes fixed
on the west horizon
as the sun...
Little lonely leaf
knocking on the glass door
with your whole feeble
form
gaping at me
begging for
refuge!
Poor purplish fragile...