The Last Hour of Light

I want to record the breeze in the afternoon…
The last hour of light,
sitting in the entry -way,
shelling green hummus, eating them raw like peanuts,
passing the black coffee around in a pink thermos,
to half -fill tiny cups,
while small flocks of desert wrens,

fly away into the backyard.
The sky is changing right before our eyes;
that pink and blue baby hue and then, from down the hill,
the call to prayer comes wafting to our ears
like chanted incense.

Karima Hoisan
June 20, 2018
Karak, Jordan

This entry was posted in Poems, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The Last Hour of Light

  1. Hoyt Heron says:

    Dear Karima…You always have a way, to make the simplest things seem wonderful!


  2. Thank you faithful friend and glad you stopped by)


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