Dogs moan
& the donkey
sleeps;
the nightingale
has flown,
from the four
corners of the
city
prayer call
echoes.
No water
heat on heat
the tourist
buses prowl
the King’s Highway.
Tri coloured
flag, Bedouin
& their tea,
Hubble bubble
pipe smokes
at coffee
corner café.
I’m alive
in the Dead Sea
salt encrusted
Angels pose
dressed in
black mud.
Red desert
sand like Mars
a vast sea
of nothing:
wind carries
jackal’s cry
wolf prints
at breakfast
round supper
fire strums
the whine
of alien
music.
Victoria Mosley 