This poem is about my cousin's Grandmother.
I remember one time not too long ago
She caught her reflection in a mirror
The way she lifted her delicate hands to her face
Heavily
Like they were each carrying a slaughtered camel
She didn't recognise the sullen and aged face staring back at her
In that white bathroom
Alzheimers held her hostage
Grey plaque covers braincells
Thunderclouds lined with mental fatique hover
This startles me
Because when she was growing up in Bandabeyla
Skies were always clear for her
So clear that it reflected
Promises of 7 children
Her dancing crops and how they gave lazy salutations to the sun
Conversations with her plump neighbour under the shade of the qudhac tree
Dowry comprised of livestock that spoke tales of cushitic galaxies
The same starry eyes that once loved him so much
Now look frustrated and at times empty
A couple of years ago my cousins and I packed our suitcases
To holiday in D.C
She cried and asked why they were leaving her
Bittersweet Mogadishu’s pain still jolts through her
She used to wonder what happened to her son
How he kissed his wife and newborn baby
And left to pray one day and never came back
She hoped they showed him mercy
I really hope they showed him mercy
One thing that touches us all so much is
The way her eyes shift when she cant find her tusbah
Or how she continuously wants to pray
So she never misses any of her salat
Even as the disease progresses
Remembrance of Allah is forever imprinted
And comforts her dementia stricken brain
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