Emptiness
The streets are empty in the morning when
The norm is bustling crowds. No one insists
On hogging pavement space. The Muslim pen
Has seen its gates all closed with Koran fists.
There’s no one up, around. Not even school
Kids drag their feet along. They’re back asleep. They,
It seems, like everyone, accept the rule
That eating in the early blackish gray
Of pre-dawn morning is ok. They flop
Back into bed then, not to rise again
Until its time for late-ish school and shop
To open, thus avoiding stomach pain.
Ramadan bellies make them feel unkind.
The rules have made their empty minds go blind.