During The Cease Fire

 

A girl stands on the roof

feeding pigeons. Swabs of  bread

litter the cement. The bird's bubbling song

brings comfort -- like the light, lyrical verse

 of a nursery rhyme

 

Downstairs, her  white-veiled  mother

 is cooking stew. Embalmed in the scent

of garlic, lemon and mint, she feels

 they are still in a safe section

of the city. Wind riles the curtains

where trees mirage their presence

in shadow. She remembers a hillside

 

terraced in stone with high grass

and olive branches looming on each ledge;

the air soaked in light and sea.

An ancient place  where she walked

lost in a labyrinthine of time

and thought, an incentive

that would give her  daughter a  name

meaning beloved garden..

 

Crowds chant loudly  in the distance.

She drops her spoon and leaves

to retrieve her child -- wondering

if they will stay safe,

taste the evening meal, and fall asleep

on bed linens taken

clean from their own closet.