World Beginnings

While some saw him as just another Nazit Saman illiterate horse trader, dressed in his simple gallabeya, I knew him better. Lotfy’s Ladies   was to  be the tee shirts  never made . As he shepherded us down  the dusty lane to the desert past the other  stable owners envious looks,  he rode proud. Nimbly jumping off his horse in the middle of the Sahara to fix a broken stirrup, adjust any strap, coax reluctant rider  and horse through pass rocky; rescuing the foolish who drunkenly dared ride at midnight. Lighting a cigarette  with one hand  passing it  while walking in the cool gathering dusk of  the desert. With only the sound of  horses hooves  in the eternal sand. His eyes could see  the soul, knowing what to say. If gay was the mood, he laughed. If pain was etched on the face he consoled. St...

Goodbye Bashir Powerful body, built for speed, soul crafted in devotion, you came to save me on a  sunny day. Weary, worn, sick and torn- you saved me- carrying me to  a peace unknown. Free from cancer’s cruel lexicon. Over the debris of life’s hopelessness, with hearts pounding in the heat. We entered magical Narnia’s door, far from diseased reality.  You saved me. In searing heat and evenings cool patiently you waited for me. But it had to end...cruel fate crushed your body, leaving no hope. I could not save you. You went on your last ride without me...alone.  Leaving me only your braided tail- a shoe and and endless pain for what could  never be again. I hold you in my broken heart forever because you set me free, saved  me from pain intractable . What am I to do now? Cairo, April 2010 For Lotfy who spent hours and hours riding with me during t...