Poem - Damascus

in damascus the song rises up
several times a day
from old
stone walls pigeons all fly
at the same time
in a feathery rush

oh here i am
i wasn't thinking
i wasn't
even here
until i knew i wasn't

i know i'll forget
and remember again
and again
like a grain lost by god
between sun and stone

time will move on
these walls will tilt more
they will
be stained more black
the birds will soar
into the air with the song

as a new person stands here
i do not know