The saffron, cumin, and the clove,
A beautifully scented treasure trove.
The colors burst from woven sacks,
To cover up the pavement cracks.
The merchants shout and strike a deal,
A vibrant energy you feel.
The ancient trade is living still,
Upon this busy, dusty hill.
Fatima’s work brilliantly bridges the delicate gap between the ancient world and the futuristic skyline of her city. Her poetry explores what it means to hold onto deep cultural traditions while racing headfirst into a...