If We Run Out of Red


If we run out of red someday,

A sorry place it’d be,

We’d rue about Ol’ White & Blue

From sea to shining sea.

Our red lights, stop signs, firetrucks,

Would lose authority,

And Bibles, wines, and danger signs

Would lose their clarity.

Christmas would be only green,

And Santa’s suit all white,

And Rudolph’s nose could not be used

To guide them through the night.

A hydrant turns into a pipe;

A barn into a shed.

Yes, life would simply be no good

If we ran out of red.

Perhaps our loss of it someday

Will drive us to the stars;

For if our world runs out of red,

We’ll Have to move to Mars.

The Parade


Thanksgiving Day, 2020

Dear Rida,

You know what’s Halal and what’s Haram, Aqsa! Mama is driving me insane! That’s all she can say, nowadays; she’s the one with the issues. And I’m sure Papa would quite agree with me, especially now that I’m a teen-ager. After living like this, like a cockroach, in hiding for two years now, I think I’m beyond my years, if anything.

But all is not bad. Ahmad and I crept up to the attic and watched Macy’s Parade all day — it was Grand! All those bands, and floats, and so many happy people…my heart can barely contain itself as I write these words! Rida, there was even a float commemorating all the Muslims who are dying for The Wall.

We almost had to laugh when a sudden gust of wind threatened to pull the rope-handlers of the Statue of Liberty float right up into the air. They really had to struggle to hold on to her!

Yours, Aqsa