Guest Poet Tariq Masoud


Paging through the
Book of life, memories,
Reprints of moments,
Seasons repeated so 
Often, winter, spring, 
Summer and autumn.

The heat mounts
Again, night air,
Heavy with moisture,
Stillness, as I 
Wait and wait. 
It was spring, we
Met and parted,
Race against time
With the innocence
Of a childs dream.

Now the dreams surge
From somewhere deep
Below. Like water bubbles
Struggling upward, rapidly
Swaying from side
To side.

The spring departs
And the birds migrate
To higher mountains.

May, 1999

Tariq Masoud's Questions:

1. Are the meanings of last stenza clear to the reader?

2. Does the poem effectively describe the impact of seasons on the mood?

The Albany Poetry Workshop