Dream baby

I keep dreaming that I’m pregnant.
I am leaning against the kitchen sink,
kneading my belly with my right hand.
I wake up and hug my dream baby.

A woman in Gaza was thinking
to name her twin children
after lesser known prophets &
I wonder what they will write
on her gravestone,
will it be one name
or three?

A friend told me that at some point a baby
is as big as an apple seed.
Dead today are two peas in a pod.

Rinan was three
when the bomb fried her,
a detail in a quest
to cleanse a country of its sins.
Last year was the first time
her teeth could crush
a green almond.

Four years ago
my mother died then
300 died in one night.
I wrote a poem
just like this.

My grief is older than Rinan,
Omar and the two peas.
If my grief was a child,
this will be his first year in school.
He will now know
how to write words.

I do not want broken
record poems about rubble
so I touch my empty belly.

I don’t want my children
to grow up here.

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2 thoughts on “Dream baby

  1. I dont want my children to grow up here!!! U r so right how the hell did our parents raise us here against all odds!

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