Escape
What you cannot escape is
the sheer handwork
what you cannot escape is
the momentum to keep your
dignity instead of denigration
So you are not dead or unassailable
The one mist or fog
which no one partake
The embellishment of
dreadful that haunts man in
In his, his or her
Just to elucidate as
a parlance of hope
when there is
no hope at all
All went well by the rhythm
of home-side chimneys
Where my Mom
was making bread
just the love which lures
For one who doesn't
make it humbug
poem by Hafiz Qasim
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