I crushed a dry leafin my hand — the sound was mortifying:a reminder.
I met the old manin the breakfast line.“Jamal” he gestured to himself -I replied “Patrick.”
We exchanged few words -he spoke almost no English.“Leban-eese” he would slowly say,and show me the crucifixhe wore…
The tree outside my windowis covered with beards of moss —some vibrant,some nearly white, the life-green fading.