Baghdad Ghazal

If hope were a tree, it would offer light like this one
A wild choir of yellow leaves bright as noonday sun.

Planes circle above Baghdad, a thousand cunning crows
Leave the country, take flight, protect your only sons.

A red-crowned woodpecker plays the wall by your window
Over and over quiet drumming awakens last night’s sun.

War burns around you, though peace is on your lips
You will learn the climate of passion, all its hot white suns.

Veils of dust caress the ancient towers of this city
Ashes and tears tarnish the frightened desert sun.

A storm blows over the landscape, its tongues spit and coil
Clouds rub belly to belly, still you sight rays of sun.

You work alone, woman, writing poems for your love
While the cursed and holy world fights to feel the sun

-Valentina Gnup