| Love Flute Pressed to her lips Adds humidity to the music We're mesmerized by her fingers, Ten delicate Italian wafers, Dancing along the reed. A strand of hair Falls across her concentrating face We hold our breath, Pray for luck And watch her tuck it back in place. At the end of every night We stand, Clapping furiously, Subduing the familiar urge To spread Our magnificent blue-feathered Wings. Not leaping over the balcony, Onto the stage, Not scooping up This magical creature With our customary haste Not bringing forward her hour of death Is unusual behavior And a worrying sign of love. Hassan Abdulrazzak |
