City Walls
I walk with ease through the streets of Jerusalem
I go lightly through her gates and along her walls
For I am not seen here as a stranger
Though I come from a distant land
While they who are shunned
Stand with centuries behind them
And nothing in their hands but promises
Like fragments of broken seaglass
Washed up on the banks of the river
And on the shores of the sea
I walk with ease through the streets of Jerusalem
Covering with prayers my head and arms
To please the faithful
In the market I buy a garment
Embroidered like the truth
And pay too high a price.
But what does it matter? I've only been cheated
Of a handful of shekels
And not, for God's sake, A whole country.
Magenta
"This jacket is not magenta," she said
Disappointed, removing the packaging
"Burgundy, cranberry, mulberry maybe
But definitely not magenta."
But you
See only grey
Skin the colour of rubble
At the eating-place in Brussels station
She taps in choices on a screen
Edamame beans or avocado, carrot or mango
Black or white rice..
But you
Dizzy with hunger, blinded by thirst
See nothing, touch nothing
She complains from time to time
A snapped shoelace, a trapped finger, a stolen suitcase
The little things that life is made of
But you
Know only the raw and savage bite
Of survival
You dare not count the days
At night there is no shelter and no blanket
She wraps around her
The jacket of her privilege, that is not magenta
And not the colour of blood.
