A Ramadan moon

Let the moon dangle on every window
while the pious observe Ramadan

from my window, I note the moon
in the sky, not half a crescent,

just wilted with the effect of the stars
whispering into the soft night

gossip of the morning
this is the status of those who observe

always last to speak, easy to offend
starters of collecting dust

this is the alley I live in
lit by the Ramadan moons

the children laugh as I type these words
tomorrow the wind comes, brings

new clothes, new tales
older fears, too young for their busy heads

the cats are restless, rivaled only by the cars
a buzz of the television, broadcasting the games

this is a life in a middle eastern city
donned now by its Ramadan moons
and young women, washing their children
or their days with a book, just like me.