An old man walks down the concrete stepsthat flow down from the Mosque like a stream,wearing a gray tunic with a benevolent hoodthat shields his eyes, and curved shoes that point to the noon sun.  People walked to prayer this morning, carrying their mats and their worn books,but you are the last one down.You walked with your bare soles, polished by red brick chalk to the straw mat and sat with your eyes closed,and did not hear those stepping around you. Inside of the azure dome did you forget your name? vladcorneliudandu@gmail.com