THE ROOFS OF MARRAKECH
Were storks here before the Berbers descended
from the hills, creating the ochre city
on the plain and sailing to Iberia –
or did the birds come to build their immense,
intricate nests because there were towers?
Flocks of satellite dishes point eastwards.
Beyond the Atlas Mountains, snow covered
deeply now, are the Sahara Desert
and the immemorial routes south to the green
and desperate countries of West Africa.
In the nearest mosque, the muezzin
(a youthful, mellifluous tenor)
sings the afternoon prayer – so close it sounds
as if he were beside us. A stork, nesting
on the minaret, opens it wings – its beak
like a prow – and rises surely into
the indifferent sky.
Ashen
January 26, 2014Enchanted ochre city, yes, and today’s satellite dishes. I’ll try and post an image of such a view on your facebook entry.
David Selzer
January 26, 2014Thank you, Ashen – for the comment and the image on FB.
arthur kemelman
January 27, 2014A very nice poem, David. I particularly liked the contrasting imagery here.
Jeff
November 7, 2026Lovely evocative poem, David… Winston Churchill painted a picture of the walls of Marrakesh (one of his better works) which I saw in Chartwell several years ago.
We arrived into Marrakesh’s chaos (or so it seemed) 50 years ago, after some days camping in the mountains in a high valley near a Berber family who came across to invite us to share their goat cheese pancake (complete with roughage – grass). We all spoke bad French together and sat under the crust of stars around his fire, finding plenty to say and laughing a lot. Lovely friendly people.
But less so the Tuareg tribesman who, Lawrence of Arabia-like in a sandstorm, held us up at gun-point, 20 Senior Service guaranteeing us a safe passage as his horse trotted him away into the swirling dust.
I am writing this in Casablanca… a huge city of 4 million people… It’s a city of football fans, cheering as Leeds beat Spurs on a big screen in one cafe, and shaking their heads as Nottingham Forest beat Man City in another. We could be anywhere!
I will give yours and Sylvia’s regards to Marrakesh on Wednesday and will write a poem for you… ‘Then and Now’.