A moonlight tale
"seventy kinds of different dates were in Baghdad"
my grandma told me
"and shame that we left," she added
"over there, they didn’t put antibiotics in our food
we didn't eat cow meat and our Kuba rice dish was filled with lamb”
and even if my way to Baghdad Has been ruined
and although I don’t speak the language
now I know that my life is a piece of a Darkened history
that sits on
a hook, a moonlight tale of my grandma.