Orchard

for Layla Ghandour

 

As red and round as hot glass

but sweeter than menthe leaves

and cinnamon,

sweeter than ignorance,

 

she glistens,

almost a mirage in the desert sun,

her teeth the stained-glass silver

of a tear crossing her mother’s cheek

 

when told, “Your child was ripe,

your child was plucked from our branches,

your child was an attack on our hearts

and now an attack on yours.”

 

Who else commands us to bear fruit

but God?

Who else commands us to eat

but the Red Man?

 

slinking behind the red gowns of celebration,

and on the red dunes of war,

through the red longing of faulty hearts,

in the red peel of an apple.

Author's Note

How sensually evocative are the images used in the poem?
How well are the different elements of the poem balanced?
What emotional appeal do you find in the poem?