Prophecy eyes, the color of olive

thinking of  the boy, Mohammed Shaaban, in Gaza and Khulud,  the writer, drawing birds in Haifa


Rest assured,

the child whom you have blinded

whose beautiful eyes

the color of olive

you have extinguished

like the trees you have


like the homes whose

family humming

you have silenced

shall all come back to haunt you


Rest assured,

you shall sleep the fitful

sleep of babies

under Gaza bombings

You shall drink the black milk

Paul Celan warned against

bringing to the lips


Rest assured,

prophecy shall spring forth

from the tongue of babes

you have maimed

who on special days revel in pools

with their amputated limbs

under the watchful eyes

of sorrowful volunteers


Rest assured,

the Word will not be one

you’d like to hear

It will not sing the praise

of the Chosen

but one by one

enumerate your misdeeds


Rest assured,

it is in the cracks

that the new is nesting

No need for shofars

in these Jericho walls

The future is already taking wing

in a sky and horizon

that are not for you to draw.


Pina Piccolo, 9 June 2021