Resurrection
along the coasts of Northern Africa
On the fortnight of your return,
they would bunch around the evening fire
to learn of your resurrection: the unhallowed season
of the sea, the throes, the convention of birds
on the route where the smugglers
joined you to a truck towards the waters;
and the sovereignty of dust in half-empty towns,
past the caves and their autonomy of green–
foliages retelling parables of no return.
How the sea beyond keeps no record
of the drowned and those it washed ashore,
how you, too, are a Lazarus of the Nile.
