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



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