The Salt Tree

The Salt Tree prose poem

Uploaded by Fareed K. Ghanem

In the road to the South, which hasn’t ended yet,
from the yet not finished North, at the ball’s surface
which had lost its center and produced sacred shrines fighting each other all along the road,
there, that white tree is still standing on her trunk:
her boughs are litanies and a scream for help,
her leaves had run out during the campaign for veiling loins in a paradise enclosed by fire and a fable,
her desired fruits taken by birds’ beaks which had immigrated at a remote autumn,
her shadow looking for a poor dress at the clouds salesman.
While they pass by, they claim: one more backward step,
and we’ll build a cartoon glory made out of words.
One step forwards, and we’ll inflame a bright darkness on the roofs of our funeral ceremonies.
One scattered step, and we’ll shoot a merciful bullet into the body of a cruel bullet.
The white tree is naked, throwing nakedness upon the over-clothed passers,
eats their brimstone, drinks their tears, and transforms into a pillar of salt.

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Fareed K. Ghanem

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I am 58 years old, from eastern Galilee, Israel (Palestine). I studied English literature, psychology and Law at the Hebrew university (Jerusalem). In the last three years, I published three books of which is dedicated to prose poetry. You are invited to visit the Facebook page Shadows of Water, where I publish my prose poems I translate to English.
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