Tea at Dawn She stands at the kitchen window with a cup of chamomile and appraises the yard where her perennial garden thrives. Michaelmas daisies form violet starbursts with centers like tiny suns. Goldenrods arch into delicate curls next to lavender clouds of chrysanthemums. The window glass mists over with steam from her cup as a buck with a full rack emerges from the air. He bends and grazes through her pink flowers of sedum then disappears into the woods like a haze of smoke.   Gardener from Mogadishu Quiet sleep leaves when the bombs come; thunder drops to earth. Run from fire, untie the gate of my cattle pen. Run to the village, find my family’s hut empty. Rush past the village judgment tree, where bodies swing from every branch. Jump the rail fence, merge with the bushes. Running, foot sore, always running, down the hillsides, across boulders, through red dust swirls from desert winds. Rest only to crouch in the scrub under guns of soldiers. I reach the river of no safety, cross over snapping jaws of dark shapes underneath. Swamp grass rips my legs. I chew seeds and beans. I wander Nairobi streets, ragged souled, and wait [...]