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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