Luxor Poem by Michael William

I sit by the bank of the Nile
And watch the feluccas floating
Up and down on the river. Across the bank
The beige mountains stand in a haze looking strange and thirsty against the
Fertile green of the valley.
The grasses on the river bank sway in time with the water: one blown by the lightest of winds, the other by an ancient flowing. It is late afternoon and my
Legs ache from a day of climbing through the vanity of the ages– behind me, the magnificence of an airconditioned hotel room-
But it is this river that holds me more than any other:
At once the essence of an entire nation and
Somehow much greater than any nation could ever be.