Economy of Waste
Ehsan Ahmed
Watching birds crisscross the solemn sun
Quivered in the reflection of gentle waves.
Far away cobalt mountains stood hushed and frozen.
Mellow ivy, cool grass, beneath the feet, wet sand.
O’ wildflowered meadow, ravage this rare flesh
This long quiet of days.
Someday some strange bird would come
And snatch certain worms too dear to these trees.
One morning I rushed to Ma asking her
To get the logs inside because the rain was coming.
She did not react. It’s just the bees on the sky
She said, without any stir.
Yes, it was a swarm of bees that sounded like rain
But there was no rain.
Ehsan Ahmed's poems and photographs appeared in Harbor Review, Stonecoast Review, Barzakh Magazine, and elsewhere. He also loves narrating audiobooks, which he often does on Librivox.
