Flowers of Flame

The Poetry of IRAQ







                      

Home


A Present


Jamal Mustafa



Come.

You won’t regret it.

It is a small miracle

that God granted me.

Come.

A green

rose.

A bottle

whose perfume

is never drained,

that encircles you like a halo.

There,

you’ll see it, you’ll smell it, you’ll hear it.

It is a poem hanging

from

its hair

like a chandelier in my grave.

Take it.



Flowers of Flame
Copyright 2008 by Michigan State University