Editor’s note: During the month of ‘Ala’ a handful of writers collaborate to share one work for each day of the Fast.
My Mother’s Hands
My hands do not yet look like my mother’s hands
but they are starting to move in the same ways
and express themselves on their own.
When I pour coffee early in the morning
my hands cradle the cup
and I view the skyline of my home.
Dawn comes in little pieces
the tests come in waves
each chasing the other.
– Sholeh Samadani Munion
Especially like “and express themselves on their own” . . .
“Dawn comes in little pieces/the tests come in waves”