RR

DISAPPEARING

"Can't Go" by Omid Shekari

For months we’d been monitoring your news
          as if you were a broadsheet,
and I’d trace
      the outline of your every response
so I could recount it precisely. The light was always
    on in the window, the mountains always
                                                                  far away.

        Then I went and missed your message.
For two nights I didn’t know
            that you had tried to say hello
one time when you couldn’t sleep.
While I sat on a rattan chair,
            a silk kaftan draped over its back.

                  Over here I see the ocean, still as a stone,
    until a ferry emerges and slices the surface
                  like a cutter through dough, leaving
            a line of stubborn white foam. 

      The light is always
on in the window, the mountains
    always far away      and the cicadas
creeping in the shadows
                            never stop shrieking.

Contributor
Nashwa Gowanlock

Nashwa Gowanlock is a writer, journalist and literary translator, with an MFA in Writing from Vermont College of Fine Arts. Based in the UK, she is the managing editor of ArabLit Quarterly, a journal of Arabic literature in translation.

Post Tags
Share Post
Written by

Nashwa Gowanlock is a writer, journalist and literary translator, with an MFA in Writing from Vermont College of Fine Arts. Based in the UK, she is the managing editor of <em>ArabLit Quarterly</em>, a journal of Arabic literature in translation.

No comments

LEAVE A COMMENT