You sold me to an old man, father.
May God destroy your home, I was your daughter.
~0~
My body is fresh as henna leaf:
green outside; inside, raw meat.
~0~
I call. You’re stone.
One day you’ll look and find I’m gone.
Landays and Picture above from Poetry Foundation, June Issue 2013
Here are my own landays:
I walk each step as lightly as the wind.
My burgha covers my wounds, heavy as a mountain.
~0~
I bathe, but this body belongs to many:
my father, my brothers & the old man with coins.
~0~
The words flow like honey from my hand.
I imagine your cheeks, like pages, pressing into mine.
~0~
Beneath this veil are the eyes of a bird,
even when it seems I have forgotten my wings.
~0~
I am more than just a stone.
Someday, I will build a tower for all my sisters.
Posted for OpenLinkNight of D'verse Poets Pub - June article of Poetry Foundation is dedicated to the Landays of Afghanistan.. I was reminded of how lucky I am to write freely, of poetry specially, without the threat to my life nor womanhood.
Poetry form: Landay is a two line poem or a folk couplet, depicting the themes of war, separation, homeland, grief or love.
