Reema: A Child Girl At War Time

Reema: A Child Girl At War Time prose poem

Photo by nSeika

At evenings, Sun puts off her light as usual and goes behind a curtain woven by sea, rock and trees, so to have a break. Meanwhile, those with black heads and scattered hair go to warm themselves at the ember of fireflies.
At mornings, Sun rubs her feet with the sand dunes; shines her teeth with a fire toothpick; washes her golden hair with water said to be flowing in flying rivers; dries it with clouds, and perfumes herself with the fog pouring up from earth to sky.
When she emerges on a dusty horseback near the rift planted with basalt stones and broken remains of gods and cruelty, she catches sight of a female child whose stars, doll and grandfather’s dignity had fallen down off her shelves to be broken.
‘Good morning, Reema!’, Says Sun.
But Reema answers not.
This is because darkness swallows her during nights, sets barbed wires on her eyes and minefields on her cheeks

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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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