Jul 6, 2024 | Fiction, Poetry |
I. Truly, I live in dark times! An artless word is foolish. A smooth forehead Points to insensitivity. He who laughs Has not yet received The terrible news. What times are these, in which A conversation about trees is almost a crime For in doing so we maintain our...
Aug 5, 2018 | Fiction, Poetry |
The Arabs used to say, When a stranger appears at your door, feed him for three days before asking who he is, where he’s come from, where he’s headed. That way, he’ll have strength enough to answer. Or, by then you’ll be such good friends you don’t care. Let’s go back...
