Grandpa’s Photo

Grandpas Photo prose poem

Photo by jared

We used to have a house, ignorant of his birthday anniversary.
Its wall was hanged on a black and white photo,
The photo hanged by a thread made of the fur of a goat coming from pre-Islamic era,
The thread hung on a nail,
The nail hung on postponed rust,
The rust kneaded by a drop of water, a breeze creeping at night and a fistful of arbitrary time.

From the black and white photo, here comes out my grandfather, in the shape of darkness and light; he carries his clayey head, a shovel, a jug of water, and digs into his shadow.
I ask him: ‘Where have you come from, grandpa?’
He scatters a toothless smile, takes a look at temples along roads, and searches in the near horizon, beneath his tired eyelids, for a loving God.

At night, when colors go to sleep, my grandfather climbs up back to his photo, carries the wall, the nail, his sorrow, clings to the thread, and waits.

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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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