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tells of us, of our expressions when we welcome dawn and when we stay awake in the nights or when we retire to half of the night, leaving the other half out in the garden. We'll be leaving, yet our expressions will remain and our chatter, along with the birds that fluttered in our coffee cups and the chairs and trees that spoke in baskets.

A short while and we’ll be leaving. What we didn’t say and have always said will stay. We are getting ready to travel, preparing ourselves. And yet everything here tells of us. Why then? Is it because we are always going away, leaving behind us something that tells of us?

September, 1991

BANIPAL 53 – SUMMER 2015 43

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