People have called for us to write about Beirut

FOR ADEL TERMOS OF BEIRUT

How mourn not knowing how the spice oil smell
crates between stalls meat hanging fresh baked rolls
the crowded bus exhaust walls peppered with small holes
posters I could not read? This man, Adel

made a decision that I could not make
sure knowing both he and his child were dead
saw guessed planned weighed a second in his head
Heard detonation saw a window break

glass splinters in the air. Saw at his side
another man with death sewn in his vest
prayed quickly for them both to find the best
threw the man down was blasted daughter died

so many others lived. My words are weak
beside the witness. See her tears her shriek.

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About rozkaveney

Middleaged, trans, novelist, poet, activist
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