I was about to go to bed
But a vivid image of you
And the moist air kept me awake

Across oceans in a reversed time
The first rays of morning light
Cheer the rooster's dawning call

I recall your habit
of picking some nana leaves
For a strong hot morning tea

Do you think of me
When you press your nose
Into the mint and sniff?

I can picture you
Sitting in the veranda
Eating your favorite breakfast

Pita bread and Bulgarian cheese
Is not a typical Moroccan food
It is just another adaptation

So many we must overcome
The language, the food,
Even the weather is a change

Here no one has memories of me
But those whom I left behind
On the other side of the world

I want to play in the orange groves
And watch the man in the packing fields
To return covered with a citrus scent

To walk on the brick weathered wall
Between the climbing liffa
And the two black berry trees

So tell me Mami,
Still washing clothes outdoor
In the leaking-rusted faucet?

I suppose you're attached to this tradition
It is something from the old days
You do not want to forget

Like cooking on Thursday night
Sitting on a wooden stool in the yard
Chanting while peeling and cutting

I pass these Mizrachi tunes
From my lips to my children's
As a tuneful token of your memory

I want to walk in your bustan
And smell the scented sweet lemon
Or maybe sample on their sweetness

Please harvest this rare growing fruit
Prepare marmalade for me to taste
It would take me back to the old days

I often associate the smooth touch of your cheeks,
The sparkle of your eyes, and the folds of your hair
With the magical manifestation of nature's beauty

My heart aches for your laughter and spice
But tonight the cold silvery gray sky
Brought a peaceful thought to my sleep

When I'll join the night dancers
Your presence will be a lamp to my feet
But for now our destinies are still unmet

Michal Mahgerefteh
Norfolk, VA