A Palestinian Day of Remembrance
(that of Sabra and Shatila)
In the eleventh hour of their day
I am reminded
of your day
eleven primes ago
when hatred and steel blinded
them and the sun gray
and halted your time
your smile your glow
eleven primes ago
I never bid you right
nor given that part
of what's left of
that partisan soul
hid in this wounded heart
that others stole
I never bid you right
I see your faces with no traces
from a past condemned
without an offence
or a place or essence
penned in timeless cases
of borders, camps, and phrases
to a shadowless, faceless presence
I never bid you right
Never understood the two names
nor why and how
time is halted now
for you not me
I will never see
or why from this day I grow to love and hate
in this shy remembrance from this side of fate.
