Saba, our first born, grew up amongst a host of family and relatives and was therefore very aware of maintaining relationships. Despite the din of a large family, she remained a dreamer. Usually quiet, when someone tread on values she held close to her heart, she was sure to speak up. In school, she was interested in Classics, English Literature, and Fine Arts. Later in life she pursued Creative Writing at University of Houston and found her voice in poetry writing. Saba's poems can also be read in Barrow Street, Cimarron Review, Natural Bridge, Reunion: The Dallas Review, and Houston Poetry Fest Anthology. — Ishrat and Zahid Husain

Also by Saba Husain: The Prayer The Other Immigrants

Saba Husain

The Artificial Lake

It's what they call God's day, my daughter said as we settled on the grass by the lake to watch birds land; water's starry heads bobbed towards us in noon's dazzling wake. In the circle of three young trees we rested where pine breezes filled the shade, the bank lined with green melded into water — shadows lengthened. Spring's almost here. Indian paintbrush and bluebonnets line the ditches, turtles sit on rocks under bridges; none of what the world pitches us. Remember how we used to point to the sky, she said, and trace shapes in the clouds.

When my girls were young, they loved to walk or bike around the neighborhood pond. It was hard to believe that a busy highway ran just outside the neighborhood. When they were older, in college, or at their first jobs, I revisited the "lake" with my middle daughter. The beautiful day took us by surprise and led us to reflect on how much our lives had changed.

Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
All contents © the author.