New poem

[oakchezzar@gmail.com]

Snow falling like artillery
Unbroken and no light between the streaming white 
In Gazza, the lights are off, the artillery isn’t a metaphor 
I woke to ceasefire and all outside is still 
In Gaza, even with ceasefire, nothing nothing is still 
Standing 
Last night I went down the animal trail following fox feet in the dusk
Slowly, avoiding cliff edge, where I might slide to my death. 
I hit dangerous end. Stop. 
In Gaza, they tried to get away, hit the checkpoints— dead end 
Human all the way. 
All the edges. Slide to their death 
is the whole world still watching? 
I’m lacing up my big black boots to go clear the birdfeeders 
Remembering the big black boots of Israeli army on the feet of young friends here for Naropa after serving
The Israeli army stomps through my mudroom 
I shoulder my snow shovel, head out to do my duty 
As they shoulder American rifles 
As Hamas shoulders rocket launcher from Hezbola
We’re duty bound
I know nothing. I fall in the snow laughing. 
Crawl forward towards my window, silent room, silent snow 
take slow aim with my camera, careful with the black crows in my sight
Shoot.  Black feathers burst into flight.
In the Middle East, who shoots 
And what bursts
what is bursting
right now?

[tulkula]

Snow falling like artillery
Unbroken and no light between the streaming white 
In Gazza, the lights are off, the artillery isn’t a metaphor 
I woke to ceasefire and all outside is still 
In Gaza, even with ceasefire, nothing nothing is still 
Standing 
Last night I went down the animal trail following fox feet in the dusk
Slowly, avoiding cliff edge, where I might slide to my death. 
I hit dangerous end. Stop. 
In Gaza, they tried to get away, hit the checkpoints— dead end 
Human all the way. 
All the edges. Slide to their death 
is the whole world still watching? 
I’m lacing up my big black boots to go clear the birdfeeders 
Remembering the big black boots of Israeli army on the feet of young friends here for Naropa after serving
The Israeli army stomps through my mudroom 
I shoulder my snow shovel, head out to do my duty 
As they shoulder American rifles 
As Hamas shoulders rocket launcher from Hezbola
We’re duty bound
I know nothing. I fall in the snow laughing. 
Crawl forward towards my window, silent room, silent snow 
take slow aim with my camera, careful with the black crows in my sight
Shoot.  Black feathers burst into flight.
In the Middle East, who shoots 
And what bursts
what is bursting
right now?

---

Thank you Oak. Your words and witnessing mean so much.