Poems

I Still Have Time

It's well past midnight
I should get up to pray
The mirrors of my honesty
have long been filmed with dust

I should get up
I still have time
My hands can yet discern
a jug of water from a jug of wine

as time's wheeled chariot
hurtles down the slope of my life

Perhaps tomorrow
the poisonous arrows aimed at me
will hunt down my eyes
two speckled birds startled into flight

Perhaps tomorrow
my children
will grow old
awaiting my return

 
Peshawar City

August, 2000

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