Trembling, my hands over my heart
Walking towards them, thinking:
All those years, they haven't changed a bit!
Do you remember me?
I whispered
I used to play here
long time ago
Do you remember the girl who used to arrive to school at dawn
while people still asleep
Yes it's me
The girl who tiptoed her way in
not to disturb the melody of birds singing their morning prayer
The girl who used to tell you stories
about her lucent wings which could only open
when no one is looking
The girl who used to dream of her home in heaven
its rainbow staircase and windows of stars
her bed of roses
blanket of jasmine and pillow of clouds
The girl who used to tell you stories
about her doll who could read and write
but who could only talk
at the stillness of the night
The girl with a wooden horse
who could only fly
when children lay in bed and close their eyes
The girl who adored her doll's family
who lived far away but could only visit
when boys and girls cross the line into dreamland
Do you remember me?
I used to play here
long time ago
Heart pounding, I whispered
Blushing, they turned their heads, looked at me-
Faces beaming, they nodded
and smiled
|
Poppies in my grandmother's olive grove, on my way to school, Bayt Iksa, Palestine, April 2012 |
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