Muddy Rug

Afghan Voices
1 min readDec 5, 2019

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A Poem by Hakim F.

Photo by the author

The blowing and coldness of the wind
Made me shiver
There was neither the ability to see
Nor the ability to close my eyes
I stared in front of me
At a scene that twisted my brain cells
My retinas were not able
To recognize the image
My brain was engulfed in shadow
And darkness
My vision was faded into
Metamorphosis
My body was dried up
Like a tree in the autumn
Having neither bud
Nor motion
I was shocked and dumbed
Under heavy, cold snows
And the blowing and coldness of the wind
Which had worn down my patience
There was no leisure in standing
Although the hour hands of the watch
Had moved by evening
But still ambiguity flows through my blood
I am engulfed in thinking
And chanting to myself
There is a man
On a muddy rug
Sitting in the way of pedestrians
Again, I am engulfed in thinking
This is not compatible with logic
The man is too small
Then in my head I hear kid, kid, kid
Then I say no kid,
And such burning cold…

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Afghan Voices

Writing by Afghan writers. Editor/Publisher: Nancy Antle; Editor: Pamela Hart