By Abigail George
There is hope born in death and death born in hope
These are not empty words, you said
I looked at the exhaustion on your face
I thought of the flowers in Gaza, the orange
and lemon trees, the last olive you ate,
the last shower you took, the last prayer
you said, the last time you boiled a
manifesto in the kettle, stirred coffee
and sugar into a mug, the last time you watched
an American film, the last newspaper you
read, the last dead body you saw, the
last book you opened, the last time you
saw your family, your wife, and children.
I have stopped watching the updates of
the Palestinian genocide. They use to
call it the Palestinian-Israeli conflict but now
it is a genocide. It’s become too much
for me to take. My tears can fill an ocean
and carry the orphans in an ark until
this war is over but there’s no end to a war
like this. Perhaps when we reach the end
of the world, the war will end. Perhaps. Perhaps.
South African Abigail George is a Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net nominated writer, Sol Plaatje European Union Poetry Prize 2023 winner, essayist and novelist who believes in the transformative, restorative, and healing power of words.