photo: ralph murre
by Stephen Anderson
Just beyond the sandy crest
Dates bake in the sun,
Water is poured into tin drums,
Children watch their fathers
Stroll away down roadsides.
And those children, bursting
Inside with angels and demons,
Wonder about slingshot throws,
Feel impervious to real bullets,
The threat of demolition by
Bulldozer, soldiers who think
Of them as animals – each side
Out of touch with their Semitic
Muscle fiber, their similar genetic
Codes, despite the different paths
They have taken to the same place.
Each other’s sweat is not seen.
Each other’s blood is not seen.
Each other’s life is not seen.
Each other’s family is not seen.
There is only blindness, at times
Blistered by the sun, at times
Chilled by cool and rainy winters with
Rivulets of water inhaled by the waiting,
~ previously published in Harvests of New Millennium