Azzan is sounding in alleyways tonight
resounding through crooked streets

and empty fields of sand tonight
picking the lock, stepping inside

climbing the staircase tonight
listening outside my bedroom.

The door creaks open tonight
azzan walks softly to the window

looks down over date palms tonight
soaking their feet in the fala’az

lying beneath the sky tonight
snoring into the moonlight.

Azzan is crawling and wailing tonight
in the darkened squares and cafés.

I hear the call-to-prayer tonight
moaning and rousing me from sleep

guiding me down the staircase and
through the empty streets tonight.

Subscribe for the latest from the UK’s oldest literary magazine.

Sign up to our newsletter for the latest poetry and prose, news and competition updates, as well as 10% off our shop. 

You can unsubscribe any time by clicking the link in the footer of any email you receive from us, or directly on info@thelondonmagazine.org. Find our privacy policies and terms of use at the bottom of our website.
SUBSCRIBE