A road divider on our thoroughfare
has been constructing since three
major eclipses, going under the idea
scalpel by fickle engineers – flowers
or trees – it’s a hard decision to make
from having spent a decade trampled
upon by preoccupied feet steeped in
eccentricities of a short-legged economy,
and now its surface is suddenly replaced
unsure of how it will maintain, the ground
has been retching a sea of sand, spilling
over the newly set paves; an old age
worker blows smoke into a humid
detached air; he must dream about
merchants, the waves of a teal road,
the silvering of his skin,
the coming out of a moon.
Sheikha A. is from Pakistan and United Arab Emirates. Her work appears in over a 100 literary venues and several anthologies by different presses. Recent works have been published in Star*Line Journal, Mobius, Abyss and Apex, New Mystics, Poetry Repairs and elsewhere. More about her can be found at sheikha82.wordpress.com
