another usless poem

I wrote this poem this morning, after being awakened by the call to prayer.


Who Flees the City

The woman who flees the city
carries a door on her back
and on top of the door is balanced a vase
and in the vase is rolled a scroll
and on the scroll is written a word
and in the word is folded a prayer
and in the prayer is flattened a heart
and in the heart is nailed a door--
a door, which neither opens nor closes
carried by the woman who flees the city.