← v6n2, Fall 2007
Poetry · Volume 6, Number 2

19

We had barely sat down; the rows had yet to fill up;

the film had not even begun when you, Allah, ordered us

to leave with the usual lover’s promises of “tomorrow,”

of screening our favorite epic on a more favorable tomorrow.

We, the matinee film lovers, were dispersed as the day’s

strong light adjusted to the sadness of twilight.