Every map I still own folds back to the sea.I was weaned on salt; I learned to want from the sea.
They ask me where I'm from. I point at water.I say: the house is gone, but I still own the sea.
My mother sewed our papers into her coat.Even the documents came out smelling of the sea.
What is exile but an argument with a horizon —the land saying stay, and winning, and still the sea.
Call me Noor. It means light. It is what a lighthousespends the whole night giving, for free, to the sea.
About the ghazalA poem of separate couplets that keep returning to the same closing word or phrase.
A ghazal is made of couplets that each stand on their own, linked by sound rather than story. Each couplet's second line closes with a refrain, just after a rhyme; the first couplet does so in both lines. Often the last couplet names the poet.
The shape Self-contained couplets; every second line ends with the same refrain, preceded by a rhyme; the opening couplet does so in both lines.
Listen for The refrain returning at each couplet's end, and the small leaps between couplets.
2 poems in this form →@noor
Home is a word she's had to redefine more than once.
6 poems · 3 readings received · 3 written · 0 followers
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