my grandfather and home
i
 my grandfather used to count the days for return with his fingers
 he then used stones to count
 not enough
 he used the clouds birds people
 absence turned out to be too long
 thirty six years until he died
 for us now it is over seventy years
 my grandpa lost his memory
 he forgot the numbers the people
 he forgot home
 ii
 i wish i were with you grandpa
 i would have taught myself to write you
 poems volumes of them and paint our home for you
 i would have sewn you from soil
 a garment decorated with plants
 and trees you had grown
 i would have made you
 perfume from the oranges
 and soap from the skys tears of joy
 couldnt think of something purer
 iii
 i go to the cemetery every day
 i look for your grave but in vain
 are they sure they buried you
 or did you turn into a tree
 or perhaps you flew with a bird to the nowhere
 iv
 i place your photo in an earthenware pot
 i water it every monday and thursday at sunset
 i was told you used to fast those days
 in ramadan i water it every day
 for thirty days
 or less or more
 v
 how big do you want our home to be
 i can continue to write poems until you are satisfied
 if you wish i can annex a neighboring planet or two
 vi
 for this home i shall not draw boundaries
 no punctuation marks
Source: Poetry (March 2021)


