Nujoom Al-Ghanem

Before day sinks into the night’s archipelagoes, I will leave the raft hidden in my heart – my mother’s prayers. They share only silence for they once divided grief. Earth and sky apart, and so are they. Death feeds on the sand. Seasons tuck their grief in their hearts. Even grass weeps. The train rushes on, carrying memories. Laughter hovers over the fields like old souls. She wished someone had been awaiting her at the next stop. Cities enveloped in barbed wire – untouchable.