Three Poems From al-Andalus
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Fajr = dawn (i.e. dawn prayer)
In the tidy marina,
the tide is going out.
My last image of her
tugs at its mooring.
I pause on a slope
of the Alpujarras.
The wide sky can't
encompass my loss.
A hooded crow calls
two hours before fajr.
The engraver has come,
desperate for epitaphs.
First published in NOON: Journal of the Short Poem
Copyright © Alan Ireland | Year Posted 2024
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