What does one do
in a city as dense as Alexandria,
approaching the Eid al-Adha
feast of sacrifice, but keep
livestock in places like balconies
or basements? This fed-fat rooftop
sheep knew such cohabitation
would lead nowhere
but to slaughter. In Tuzla,
Hasan must have feared
this too. Bosnian born, Serbian
wife, sons given Croat names,
he took on the communist
cause-- its red iron fist of unity.
These ten years after its downfall,
he still calls everyone comrade.
But his sons with rooftop views
scatter across countries and ocean,
marry women, eat food, speak languages
he'll never recognize. And what's left:
his house built stone upon stone, the sheep
he won't shear for fear he might
cut their skin, and a small fishing boat
willed to no one.
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