Monday, August 06, 2007

Ramadhan is a boy

My brother tells me he's a Muslim.
I hear the Azan prayers in the background of his Chatswood home.
He tells mum that the heavens are under the soles of her feet.
She is accepting of him, his wife and of course of Ramadhan.
Their son of two and mum's pride and joy
This boy of such rich heritage
And I, am in awe.
How once an annoying teenager
Is now a married man, a father, a Muslim.
My brother.

Don't wait for me

I return to that land we once played as twenty-somethings, I call you and we catch up like we were riding on a Tangara from Redfern to the c...

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