al-Qahwa
Samar sleeps in her headscarf
dreaming of children again.
Face pressed against the water cooler
when will she see them again?
She makes coffee for the local men
who have done no work again
(there are foreigners for that
so we have all heard again).
Samar boils the muddy drink
in a brass samovar again
with cardamom and touch of ginger
It’s hot, be careful she says again.
She rises from her chair in the corner
to collect cups and saucers again.
Samar whispers to herself in Malay
padding across the carpet again
when will she see her children
sleep in her own bed again?
There is never enough money
so she endures the bitter taste
like the sludge and silt of coffee
at the bottom of a cup again.
Samar dreams of home whenever
she closes her dark eyes
children are forgetting her face
her voice, forgetting to call again
she wonders if love would taste as sharp
if she ever returned home again.
SUAD KHATAB ALI