Suqqania’s Walk.

Do we know your walk,

Through the shift in years,

Through the rotation of fable

Through the constant listening?

Do we know your walk,

When we see our little ones

When we see them scuff along

Happy in the world we build them?

Do we know your walk,

With the torn ears

And the tattered hair

And broken little hands?

Do we know your walk,

That awe curating walk

From your father's chest

To the floor of your cell?

We know not, but we hear it,

Your little steps into ourselves.

That we could forget,

Would be a crime against memory.

by Ali. A. Naqvi