I write poetry and some fiction, have a book that was published in 2012. . . Stray Thoughts/Winged Words. I have four grandchildren, ages 16 and half to almost 16 months. I love the ocean, and grew up along the Indian Ocean in South India. I am a retired physician. Don't know much else to say. Thanks for reading.
That has been my profile for so many years. My daughter Saadia a great poet and story teller, has two sons; the oldest grandson is now 21 years old, doing architectural engineering at Missouri S&T in Rolla MO. His younger brother is almost 16 and taking driving lessons seriously and is in High School. The other two grandsons, children of my son Sayeed, are 9 and 5.
I have recently published another book titled Gulistan, A home of Flowers. It has stories and memories of my childhood and of a distant land which I still consider as my HOME., even though I have lived here in the US for more than fifty years.
Hope to see you on my blog.
*sigh* I can see those hands. I look at my own hands and wonder how they came to look so old. I wonder if I too will retain the illusion of strength in hands weak with age. This is a beautiful poem steeped in reality with a question hovering before my mind’s eye…
How very sad. Wonderful writing though. And kind doctoring.
Beautifully written, Zakiah — but how sad!
Great observation. Time is cruel.
That’s all of us one day. Beautifully written, as always.
The old age ! I feel myself in your poem, Zakiah , but I am not a carpenter !
Love ❤
Michl
Wonderful.
*sigh* I can see those hands. I look at my own hands and wonder how they came to look so old. I wonder if I too will retain the illusion of strength in hands weak with age. This is a beautiful poem steeped in reality with a question hovering before my mind’s eye…
I see my parent’s hands and soon mine. This is beautifully crafted.
oh – lovely sunflower too!
Aw, this is so sad….but beautifully written Zak