Two Poems by Cathleen Cohen

Paradise

In the basement of the converted
old factory, boys cluster and chant
in gray light, which enhances the glitter
of their skull caps, embroidered
by aunties in Bangladesh.

For years the elders feared posting signs
and the mosque hid its face.
But finally they settled on a small green plaque
overlooking a vacant field.
Few wander back here

without a reason.
As a neighbor, I bring over cookies and books,
often sitting with the women to sip chai,
cross-legged on a rug.
I try to tune my ear to their language.

At first they thought I might be a convert
but one spring I brought macaroons and matzoh
so they laughed.
I tutor the children in English after prayers
and watch their faces open like flowers.

This fall I missed two months.
My mother entered hospice and I stayed by her side.
Returning to the mosque, the children circled me.
One pats my sleeve, says they’ve been praying
my mother’s soul will reach paradise
and won’t wander.

*

Nidhi

The imam’s youngest daughter can not be found.
A shriek goes up as mothers and teachers weave
through the playground, rattling boxes,
searching for a pair of braids, the exact
brown eyes—Nidhi.

Might the child surface in months, cooing
like a dove above the landfill?

A tiny figure kneels at the far fence.

Annas pumps his wheels over blurred asphalt but finds
only Karim, piling sharp
scraps into rows. “Bring him!”
shout the mothers, unwilling to tempt fate.

Something stirs today, some wind.

Annas says it’s a curse brought
by the oldest boys, who play tricks.
Later in class he repeats this, convinced.
I say write a poem about it.

In this city, children wheel freely
and trucks speed their freight: pipes, jagged steel.
Drivers’ eyes flicker, they survey.

Something stirs in the alley, white ruffle.
We turn, but it’s only plastic and paper scraps.

After an hour, Nidhi at the men’s door
silent in the light, led
by her father, who’d left her
rolling among the rugs while he discussed
a fine point of the sermon.

Surging forward, we can’t reach her
fast enough.

*

Cathleen Cohen was the 2019 Poet Laureate of Montgomery County, PA. She helped create the We the Poets program (www.theartwell.org) for children from diverse communities. She teaches poetry and painting to children and adults through local venues, including Ritualwell (https://ritualwell.org/) and Cerulean Art Gallery. Her poems appear in literary journals and four collections: Camera Obscura (2017, Moonstone Press), Etching the Ghost (2021, Atmosphere Press) and Sparks and Disperses (2021, Cornerstone Press) and Murmurations (2024, Moonstone Press). Three of her poems were nominated for Pushcart Prizes. Her artwork is available through Cerulean Arts Gallery (https://ceruleanarts.com/pages/cathleen-cohen).