Four Poems

A Letter to Flower and Crown

In the middle of the night,
I write a letter to Bibi Gul and Taj Begum imagining their daytrip.
Measuring the hours with the gesture of the sun,
they now cross the muddy valleys –

with a hope that someone will help on the other side,
offering them shelter to rest for the night.
I first heard the story about the women fleeing
and losing their ways in crossing the valleys –

to an end uninvited.
The reason for their flight remains a mystery,
and never to be remembered again.
The remaining people call their flight

an escape out of the village
in search of some distant land,
abhorrence, translates the word on the tip of the tongue.
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