Thursday, February 23, 2012

The Sands of Sorrow ... a poem by Anne Selden Annab

The Sands of Sorrow*

Picture the
a clock,
we know it ticks
time passes...

At the top of the hour
is America totally pro-Israel

At three o-clock
three people smiling valiantly
holding three cheerful signs:

At six o'clock
the crowd has doubled-
and is now scowling and hostile.
The signs and the people
are ugly angry anti-Israel
and angry anti-Palestine
and angry anti-America.

Jagged cracks and lines
come between the people.

At nine o'clock
those jagged cracks and lines
have formed into tidy boxes
containing and separating
eight nicely dressed newscasters reading news.
Four are pro-America pro-Israel
Four are anti-Israel anti-America
and the one remaining outside all boxes
is Handala in his rags- his clasped hands
clutching a tattered sign upside down
dragging on the ground...
in very small, very hard to read
inverted print:
the hand lettered word

The ink is fading.

The top of the hour
once again
is America ticking right back
into totally pro-Israel.

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