BY AGHA SHAHID ALIThose intervals
between the day’s
five calls to prayerthe women of the house
pulling thick threads
through vegetablesrosaries of ginger
of rustling peppers
in autumn drying for winterin those intervals this rug
part of Grandma’s dowry
foldedso the Devil’s shadow
would not desecrate
Mecca scarlet-wovenwith minarets of gold
but then the sunset
call to prayerthe servants
their straw mats unrolled
praying or in the gardenin summer on grass
the children wanting
the prayers to endthe women’s foreheads
touching Abraham’s
silk stone of sacrificeblack stone descended
from Heaven
the pilgrims in white circling itthis year my grandmother
also a pilgrim
in Mecca she weepsas the stone is unveiled
she weeps holding on
to the pillars