Kholoud Al Fallah
Waiting for you
the street
the passers-by
the sellers
the traffic men
the door of the house
the tiles
the coat rack
the plates
the spoons
and the milk cup.
Scarecrow’s field
outside
cities of narration
crossed by faces without echo
They departed
leaving behind
cups and plates
yesterday’s dinner
and a package of expressions
This little room
walls covered with my photos
the bed
the orange cloth
the dull make up table
its mirror
surprised my void.
Poem: Kholoud Al Fallah
Translation: Salma Maref
