How Tired Poem by Sadiqullah Khan

Behind the cover of tottering guns, arched bows,
Shields and fire emitting eyes, and wishing to see light
Through the dust, begging on the ground and throwing stones
On the road. How tired, how tired.
And under a tree on a dried stream of spring water.
Turbans and white caps.
And as if a love spreading legs, so like the village of Shalman.
And as if wide spread arms, and a scarf black in color,
And as if such a smile on her face.
As if those flames so furious from the well of oil,
Suckling drops for tomorrow, and as if the bodies of two,
Dead, a man and a woman. And as if those flames have burned,
All. Everyone was crying mother and some higher deity.
Everyone was so tired. How tired, how tired.
And as if under the cool tree or a soft empty room,
Bread with onions and skimmed milk,
And a sleep and some prayers and some talk,
And some shadows of big walls and a cow eating grass and
A child playing in the mud, and some memories, and red lips,
Smiles and some tears.
And a knock on the door and some greetings in sunlight,
And lost dreams under the stars in the dark night.

Sadiqullah Khan
Torkham,
June 12,2011