Damascus - Poem #51

Oh, Madinat al-Yasmin!
You of the Street called Straight
‘twas on the road to thee
that Paul saw the Christ.

Abbasids and Fatimids
Seljuks and Mamluks
Timur and the Black Death
Gone and still you live.

No one remembers
the angels of the Sumerians
of Hyksos. of Umayyad;
Only the gutted market place

the scream of innocent survivors,
for those killed at checkpoints,
Saladin’s children, now a montage
lifeless arms and limbs

no pity for yesterday’s beauty;
just brush away the dead flies
wooden coffins coming home;
collateral damage.

The twisted tree of the desert
is not alone nor desolate
having deep roots; drawing life’s blood
from the sands of Damascus.

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