She appears as blue
shadows across the market
dust at Adiba
where the umbrella-makers rattle
and shape their ephemera,
confident as a mystery
waiting to be told.
Holding a ticket
for a train of sand and fear.
Pale resurrection sisters
surround her. Their dark
umbrellas eclipse the sun
to hide her face. Her face
a streambed of fog
and remembrance,
a collapsing umbrella after rain.