DURE AHMED
Rain
after Kazim Ali’s “Rain”
I’d always know. The air’s soft hiss before it started to rain.
I’d wait on the rooftop; mouth open to drink the rain.
I’d peel off my kameez if the rooftop wasn’t disgrace enough.
I’d whirl, my skin slick with thin cotton soaked in rain.
In my Prophet’s tradition I’d invoke “allahumma sayyiban nafia”
I knew that when the sky grays, you pray for more, auspicious rain.
I’d send salaam to the Prophet’s soul, in chorus with the rim jhim
Every drop would recite its salutations with me, in the heavy rain.
I’d bring the floor squeegees to the front yard, one for everybody
We’d lead water to the drains, save our home from rain.
Rain under the doorway, rain seeping through window tracks
I’d tie up the curtains, roll the carpets, out of reach of rain.
It is me you’re looking for! I cry out to the endless seep
Water seeks its origin, but I whisper prayers for rain.
Dure Ahmed is a Pakistani poet currently pursuing her MFA at the University of Arizona. Her work has recently appeared in Berkeley Poetry Review’s Midterm 5.