Will at least there remain some kind of night
beyond what’s left to cover what’s been done?
Out there how do stars see through such a sight?
Some chart long tails or any cloth colored white.
That’s all he asked for, down here, from everyone;
leastways up there stream some lines of something bright.
So go make a long tail—try to get it right
& love might lend another day above.
Then, at least, there remains some kind of night.
Floodlight our stark skies: go fly Refaat’s kite!
(Even you who know no love to speak of.)
Out there overthrow moonscapes with his light.
Down here no one counts on cease-fires or flight.
Pen what’s wise. Let it be a tale he wrote.
Out there who will share some good news tonight?
Wing-footed already running out of night,
clearing peaks of rubble—inked limbs unwind
until stiller now—one long full moon’s might
makes room for frames dressed in white cloth: Refaat’s kites.
(The Palestine Chronicle)
– Helen J. Carl is an English teacher living in Nice, France. She contributed this poem to the Palestine Chronicle.
