The Other Immigrants by Saba Husain

As if the light from a zodiac      spilling onto rose floors
and a clock chiming      on a waltzing concourse
were not enough      how many

have stood      in the Whispering Gallery
and stuttered      into silence
when they heard words      from its walls

and were transported      to the childhood
counting to ten      playing under lemon trees
anticipating      more afternoons

roamed the red brick streets      forts
lush garden      Lahore      and held on
to its ditches and lanes

till they found themselves
standing under a dome
in Grand Central                  whispering.


Date: 2015

By: Saba Husain (19??- )

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: