For Fadwa Suleiman - Returning Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

LAUREL

by Fadwa Suleiman

I'm sitting alone in my room
my clothes scattered around me,

and the suitcase that took to the road with me when I fled

I keep telling it about our return, soon
When we go back, you'll carry my clothes that crossed the border inside you
We'll pass through the cities, walk on their streets once more
We'll write in the dust with our own ink
and our ink to us will be essence of laurel.


POISON IVY

My response

It's not so easy Fadwa
Picking up what remains from hatred

in bits and pieces beyond the lost familiar - after the homegoing

I was once promised the return of my treasures
By a wronged and vindictive lover whose anger could not be contained
And waited in the car as a friend picked up one of my old suitcases
Revealing a frayed leather belt and some wire coat hangers
threatening perpetual enmity - written in resin of poison ivy.