Early Absence

Not enough time to learn how to play an instrument that

sounds like your steps climbing the stairs at home, or sing

rhyming songs as you wash air from the fatigue of longing,

not enough time to plant flowers the color of your clothes

in the hanging pots of testament, and paint all these doors

the untamed white of your scarf, nor even enough time

to cut the grass in the hallways and make it seem like it just

woke up in a hurry to see you, not enough time for us to

explain to the windows the Reasons and Occasions as

to why the Quran descended like rain one early morning,

why the neighbors brought their chairs with them, and words

of condolence in their pockets, which they scattered

like salt on the thresholds, while at home

there were neither birds, nor mothers.