Thursday, August 18, 2005

Sunset in Gaza

I sit on my bench as the air turns chill
I grab a handful of the well-tilled soil
I feel its warmth on my open palm
The grains glow red in reflected light
As though still stained with Philistine blood
From Samson's time

I think of fires, remembering ovens, other deaths
This was our refuge, our one safe place
Tomorrow we must leave, the soldiers say,
Another journey with an uncertain end
Carrying what we can, leaving an empty house
For the bulldozers

The wine-dark Mediterranean reflects
The last crimson rays
Stars emerge
Enough of death and retribution
Righteousness and rage
I water the earth with tears of farewell

The seeds I planted, trees I tended,
Will be harvested by other hands
Let them take good care of this land
And live in peace.

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