the poem
flowed from her heart
in Arabic
her hands shaping the air
beating her breast
tears falling
down her aging face
the translation
more halting
pulling images of love and loss
from a foreign language
this treasured gift
received as we sat together
on white plastic chairs
under a generous moon
passion fruit hanging
from vines overhead
– emkh, 4nov2018
(remembering Beit Sahour)
words & sightings 