Autumnal Equinox

the joy of Fall is waiting
bringing its special colors
and coolness
the oppressive heat of summer
i’d love to visit New England
see the colors in full beauty,
walk the leaf-strewn sidewalks
that we walked
as kids;
picking up the prettiest
and skipping
the rest of the way
to school.

Linda Tauhid


Avocados are My Steak

avocados are my steak
romaine lettuce
is my bread.
you might ask
how this juxtaposition
took place
a foodie eating
only vegetables…
the answer is lost
in shedded pounds
and plummeting cholesteral
and a joie de vivre
formerly achieves
by culinary richness.
i play
with quinoa
and salsa verde
with chipoltle
and cayenne
merrily skipping
what i used to jump into
with alacrity.

excuse me, I’m hungry…
i think i’ll have a steak–
i mean
an avocado!

Linda Tauhid



we danced out of high school
that summer
into the dormitory
of Northeastern U’s White Hall.
the soundtrack of the summer
was led by “Respect”.
we painted houses in Roxbury–
a student project;
hailing from Simmons and Brandeis and Harvard–
the colleges of Boston
and some from the South;
Dillard & Howard.
a conglomerate of cultures:
the beginnings of Black Power,
SDS and the Weathermen…
turning out a summer of love;
listening to Jimi Hendricks
and the all-pervasive soul offerings
on warm barefoot evenings
on Huntington Ave.
there is no one
like Aretha.
her voice
has surely reached the heavens

the strain and rasp
of a stretching soprano
with a contralto back.
she sang for my time,
for our time–
she crooned and retorted
as we wandered the mazes
of beginnings
to ends…college, marriage
birth and death…
a cycle that has led us to
another time–
a time of turmoil
and reversal;
of treachery
and hope.
and quiet summer nights
unlit by dance and music
or walks on The Fenway.
alone and contemplating
how we got
from there
to here.

Linda Tauhid



when i saw your face
i knew what i
had lived
this long for.
your skin
so new to the air
protected by
the inner waters
for so long;
your slumber,
your quiet breathing…
when i held you
i knew that
my purpose
is to love
and heal
and be forgiven
from so long ago
when i held
your father
but did not know

how i

how precious,
how sacred

Linda Tauhid


Ramadan Night (1439)

the moon of Ramadan

is waning…

soon it will be

beyond sight;


like the skin

of a date stone.

it would be nice

to be in Senegal

where the sky is endless

and the earth


on a quiet night 

of Africa’s silent prayer

and to partake of

the neglected food

of daytime 

from a shared common


the hot grease of red oil

staining the eater’s fingers;

the satisfaction 


each grain 

of rice,

each drop

of water,

each sip 


hibiscus tea.
Linda Tauhid



there is no food here
no water
only air;
the fruit flies
hunt for food,
they visit me
while i sleep
peeping at my nostrils,
lighting on my lips
to steal a taste
of sweetness
from the morning dates of suhoor*
it is quiet;
the energy to run
and play
has subsided amidst
the long days
that we are counting…
victorious at each success.
as the world spins
and Kilauea spews her fire
reminding us
that to live, to love, to believe
we too
must burn.

*suhoor is a transliteration of the Arabic word for the pre-fast meal of Ramadan

Linda Tauhid