photo: ralph murre
Blocked
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,
Parched
earth.
~ previously published in Harvests of New Millennium
