Bassel Almasalmeh - Perspectives

While I was walking the city
enhaling the dust of the street after rain
the weather cloudy, the trees dim
the city looked like an open book

time lays its hand on the self
memory stores fragments, images:
streets, crowds, shops, weather
as if life is but a handful of dust

the city, energy, immortal
walking with dead bodies, treading on
faces carrying weary heads to oblivion
walking with memories played like tape

now things look smaller,
small things fade, large ones small
as if I was hovering, mapping the city
is this real or slave hallucinations

the city appeared huge and unfathomable
I looked closely from above
and saw a man looking towards me
imagining desperately the scene from above

Bassel Almasalmeh

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