Colours of the masses, splashed upon the hills
It is spring and they have come once again
Nothing will stop them (one can hope)
And all summer we watch the flowers sway in the wind
Fingers grazing petals, one can’t understand
What special life enters through the roots
As autumn falls and the colours stain
Another canvas of matching hues
When winter comes and takes it all away
Hands reaching out, one can’t understand
The time until the colours come again
Azzah brought the bowl to her lips holding it with both hands. “I think this is my favorite.”
“Hm.” Reem took a big gulp herself, belying her previous words. “Then enjoy it while it lasts, little sister. She said it will only be for a little longer.”
“I think you should make up for your less enjoyed drink with something else.” Azzah hooked her free arm with Reem’s. She grinned at Waseme, who knew exactly what Azzah referred to. With a shake of her head, Waseme went back to pouring another bowl. Whether for someone else or in preparation for them coming back, Azzah never knew.
Reem hadn’t missed their look. Reem was a sharp one. Azzah might have sat them both down in front of Waseme’s hut to start their evening, as they always did, but she had to know what Azzah would push her toward. It was hard to miss Lebna. His skin was lighter than most, though just as rough from work fishing, hunting, sowing and gathering as the others. His locs were thick, bound only with coloured thread.
“What’s this?” The moment Reem noticed Lebna, her eyes caught. “Well?” she asked Azzah, pretending not to know.
“He’s still up.” Azzah took another sip. “You should go speak with him.”
“I should go speak with him?” Reem repeated, not doing much more than pressing her lips against her bowl.
Azzah laughed. “Come on now! You aren’t fooling anyone, especially not me.”
“Oh, Azz, how could I ever fool you?”