Rose water

Photo ©Hamed Tahamtan

How did the heat shrink

and blow away in green torrents

of sea-wash, cloud-borne

on thrashing horse winds?

Fissures in the cracked skin

of the earth riffle with downy

bristles, the shrivelled flowers

of summer, filled now, running

with dry dust after the soaking rain.

Earth sighs and sings beneath

the plucked chords of rain strings

yet the music runs through open

fingers, soaking into gaping heat-wounds,

water in a desert of weeping

roses d’Ispahan.

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