Borders and Boarders

On the fourth of July and the third and the fifth

we think about borders and boarders how funny

inhuman really that we are separate from each other  we

who look the way our ancestors looked or we don’t I know I

don’t look like any ancestor I ever saw I hope

a Mongol poet passed through the village where an ancestor of mine lived

and then she loved him we make up borders our own

funny walls this morning Syrian refugees asked to go to Israel

fleeing Assad they wanted Israeli soldiers to protect them  ironies

of history over and over and then they could be safer for a while

a Syrian poet there are many Syrian poets could fall

in love for a while anyway with the soldier’s sister and then there would be

a boy or a girl from the time when there were no borders

from a time when there was even a little love.

Esther Cohen
Let me tell you why I'm here, and why I hope you'll join me. I am here to poem, to play with words, to tell stories when I can, and to ask you for yours. Words are what I love, how I see, and what I say. Words are how I know my life, and how I find my friends. I'm here to ask you to join me. Right here. To send me your stories, and your poems. And to read mine when you can.

3 Comments

  1. Please keep feeling and writing about how you’re feeling, dear Esther. It makes the world more humane.
    With gratitude and hugs!!

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