Narrowed shutters - desert so bright that northern hemisphere eyes become slits
intensity of light burning her retinas - the world divided into horizontal lines of heat.
Desert sands are hazy, drifting, misting: sand everywhere.
A donkey stands nonchalantly waving his head from side to side, gently and absentmindedly keeping the flies out of his eyes.
Old grey-wet country, cold in winter, lost in fog.
2/6
Every Friday he sat on his blanket by the wall, of noble mien, dressed in rags
back straight, hand outstretched
I waited all week
for Friday, to put pennies in his hand and receive my blessing in Aramaic.
What did he say? I never knew
One day he wasn't there
Every Friday has been empty since.
5/3
She stands by the grave. He died six centuries ago.
"Bring me a child," she moans - and bribes him with money and honey.
"Circle seven times my grave .... and laugh. Laughing brings children."
sic: Isaac
9/3
The Bride stood under the canopy and knew it was wrong. She looked into the eyes of her true love who did not stand beside her. Heart traitor her blood sang. She extended her hand for the ring
and gave away her life
But gained a daughter.
7/4
Under the palm trees, by the blue, coral waters they took their little baby; let her crawl spider-style, naked, merging with sand, wind and waves.
.......stupid parents, thoughtless people, you'll lose the child, she'll get bitten, eaten, stolen...........
The child grew tall, strong and well - into a young woman - with distant memories of freedom in her soul - hands and knees in sand, eye level with coral waters.
8/5
Night-time prayers. Send them free and the angels will pick them up. They hover, you know, waiting. She lifted her eyes, kissed her hands and prayed for the daughter in the army, at the front.
4/6
The dead face on the television screen. A passport photograph or perhaps an army shot.
How old? Sweet eighteen - never nineteen.
I hold your hand, child. Die bravely.
That is what they will say - while your mother weeps.
3/7
Shots, shouts - silence. Running feet. Cries and screams and now the siren of the ambulance.
The moans of the wounded. Fear - sick, cold and wet. Run away too. Fear -my feet move
taking me into the debris.
Go home Go home now
10/8
It was over and begun again. Life lets go and carries on and the desert sands still swirl and the donkey blinks. Blessings come in many forms and sometimes only stay awhile. Blessings while they last, until the sand reclaims what has always been hers, and the star overhead stays lit and does not go out.
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