There are times when I think of them
when the birds sing in the dark moments of the false dawn
thinking the day has arrived
because the night’s missiles have paused
but there are no birds
because there are no trees
and there are no children
and no buildings
and no morning smell of baking bread, za’atar¹, hummus, lemons and labneh²,
because they blew apart
the baker, and his wife, and eventually
drone-struck his last remaining son,
a twelve year-old orphan in a tiny shop
who still rose every morning singing
with dusty hands and teary courage
to try to feed some floury love
into a cruel and crumbling world
where the kneaded soil
and seared sky become an oven
and a ceasefire means the slaughter continues indefinitely
and a char-baked truth dies as a slow glow in the embers.
¹ A spice blend traditionally made with thyme, marjoram, or oregano, toasted sesame seeds and sumac.
² A creamy cheese made by straining yoghurt to remove most of the whey and served drizzled with olive oil. The longer it is strained the firmer it becomes.
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Stephen Linstead
Picture EPA
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