flick a match
alight the lanterns
like the call of the muezzin
to the moths.
the desert sands
lay before me
swirl into breathtaking paintings.
fabrics of india tighten,
colours of sunsets.
beating wings fan the flame,
singes fall like silk ribbons
as do guilty knees
when making prayer. ~
`t. imaan tretchicovmanicova
13may09
copyright © 2009
