Trees

Trees prose poem

Photo by skpy


This ungrateful city speaks slowly , not out of shyness because of her short garments , but because its suitcase is overburdened with blood. Bitterly I have been crying since the time I saw her. I cry for my dear trees , for I am a man from the wild , a man who knows the sounds of animals but not pure like them . Thus bears are not coarse or brown , but soft and rosy balloons. As well , an owl is not blind or ominous , but it has a silver heart through which she sees the truth . If only you know how friendly she is! She used to talk to me about the stories of the ancestors. Rootless and homeless I am now . I used to live in a warm cottage over a tree.. I used to smile .. to laugh in the morning.. and I used to sit cheerfully by a pool whose name I no longer remember. For this city slapped me with her hard hands and made me forget every beautiful thing. I forgot my colour and voice. A dumb man now I am , with no colour, with no voice and with no tale. A very sad man now I am . I never know anything about the spring and I never remember my dear trees .

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Anwer Ghani

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• Anwer Ghani; an Iraqi poet and literary theorist, born in 1973 in Hila city, and he lives in Iraq now and worked in a hospital as consultant physician. He had collections in Arabic in e-book form (Language 1) 2014, (Language 2) 2015, (Language 3) 2016, and many books in poetry criticism in Arabic and in e-book form with unique ideas and post-stylistic criticism .He is the chief editor of a literary magazine (Tajdeed) deals with Arabic prose poems, and he is the chief editor of a literary magazine in English (International prose poem journal). He writes the polyphonic (multi-voices poems), mosaic (mirror language poems), abstract poems and expressional narrative poems. Email: anweralmosewi1@gmail.com Facebook : Anwer Ghani Almosewi
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