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Joy finally returned with her wet feet with blood
She returned with her Gray headdress, that she bought last feast
She returned trembling like an old tree
like a sparrow was singing
Joy finally returned to this old, windowless door with a rust latch
The door that gave its color to the eyes were seen
The wooden door that waited for the iron key long
Through it overlooks peace with bare feet
Joy finally returned
No one remembers what happened last feast
No one is paying attention to casting snails
No one looks at the Sun
No one thought of just thinking about that locked door
Behind an old tree
Joy finally returned
She passed by the only tree before the door
The tree that starters getting its green color
The tree from which the sun suddenly fell
copyright 2020
Abdel-Wahed
Souayah |
