Homeless

By HUSSAIN AHMED

 

I woke up to a frozen neighborhood. 

I wondered how it ever bloomed 

After it got so white and lonely. 

Where do the birds hide when it snowed?

I have many questions, but I can only ask my reflection

From the mirror, anytime I wash my face 

Before another salaat. 

Each time, this is what it means to be in khalwa.

You whisper names you know Allah bears. 

With each repetition, you asked what names only you want to call God

That no one may know. That’s how we learn to love.

I have a name for everyone I loved that is no more.

Baba didn’t know this garden is never free of weeds.

Where do the homeless sleep when it’s all cold?

They go back to God’s house, it is the only time they are allowed.

On other days, how come their families don’t come for them?

I don’t have answers to his many questions, I sighed instead 

And prayed that God would forever leave His doors open, 

Even when it’s not snowing, even when the grasses are back up.

 

Hussain Ahmed is a Nigerian, poet, and environmentalist. He received an MFA in poetry from the University of Mississippi. His poems are featured in AGNI, Poetry Magazine, Kenyon Review, A Public Space, and elsewhere. He is the author of Soliloquy with the Ghosts in Nile.

[Purchase Issue 24 here.]

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

Homeless

Related Posts

cover of paradiso

May 2025 Poetry Feature: Dante Alighieri, translated by Mary Jo Bang

DANTE ALIGHIERI
In order that the Bride of Him who cried out loudly / When He married her with His sacred blood / Might gladly go to her beloved / Feeling sure in herself and with more faith / In Him—He ordained two princes / To serve her, one on either side, as guides.

A photograph of leaves and berries

Ode to Mitski 

WILLIAM FARGASON
while driving today     to pick up groceries / I drive over     the bridge where it would be  / so easy to drive     right off     the water  / a blanket to lay over     my head     its fevers  / I do want to live     most days     but today / I don’t     I could     let go of the wheel  

The Month When I Watch Joker Every Day

ERICA DAWSON
This is a fundamental memory. / The signs pointing to doing something right / and failing. Educated and I lost / my job. Bipolar and I cannot lose / my mind. The first responder says I’m safe. / Joaquin Phoenix is in the hospital. / I’m in my bedroom where I’ve tacked a sheet...