I find myself resting on my path home,
A misty seat in the grass as I see the fog kiss the windshields of the cars that pass
The road obstructed for those in motion but clearer to those with nowhere to go
Weren’t we just kids?
Catching frogs in our cousin’s backyard, kicking dirt off our shoes
Rolling down hills, grass tangling in a blur of green stains and skinned knees
Mama, are we losing our nest?
she’s looking at me
wide-eyed, waiting
like i’m the branch
that’s supposed to hold.
It’s been six years since I lost him.
But in truth, the fear of losing himÂ
started much earlier.
A correspondent in the north of Gaza recorded
News coverage in a steady and steadfast voice from and for his people.Â
Attentive, anchored in principle, and memorizing both…
I watch the sun blink goodbye / just in a matter of moments / This bright orange sphere…
Morning broke without you,
and with it, your suffering.
I thought your loss would break me,
as much as your love empowered me.
when this world forgets your name / and looks away from the faces of the many we’ve lost / at the hands of the oppressor / I will hold your hands
