by Mohammed Ahmad
Unbeknownst to them, you are the image of fame,
Golden and green, no foreigner to stark pain
Standing beautiful but bleak in this usurped land,
You are the only light in this moonless night,
Do the bullets ever prod?
Your limbs lie flexed, drifting with wonders of “will I be next?”
Pondering still as air, a multitude of eyes peered upon God
Butchered bark sway to our presence, no matter how sordid our life
Every October you flutter as harvest falls in our midst, a definite spark
Memories of your divine, uttered through every martyrs last goodbye
You stand tall as a witness to their demise,
Is God a witness to your planter’s misery?
You are a force on a summer day, dancing in the brimming sun
As they slice your stubbled branches, your tears fall free
Hands tightly grasped around your stem,
violently strung from the ancient root,
Caterpillar tractors pave the way
for rivers bolstering our cries from Sinai to Beirut.
Carved into our tragedies, forgotten stories,
necklaces I wear around my neck,
an umber cross
As I tread, head bowed over dead olives,
Ruined over the loss.
Mohammed Ahmad is a Palestinian-American actor and writer from Colorado. He recently graduated with his Master’s in Professional Creative writing and Poetry at the University of Denver. During his free time, he enjoys reading, traveling, and spending time with his family and friends.