A Sarajevo Morning

The sun rises above
streets carved with scars
and holes filled by roses.

Minarets and tower blocks
compete for the sky’s love,
the muezzin’s wailing voice

drifting across river waters,
contained by mountain’s steep
slopes around city walls.

Between old Austrian rows
life springs into action again.
Market stalls and hammer on copper.

Howling steam from the first coffee.
Breakfast’s smoke caressing the blue
trapped by narrow roof gaps.

Voices echoing on the pavement.
Newspapers unfurled,
shivering in summer’s morning breeze.

The sun rises above
streets carved with scars
and holes filled by roses.

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