i had an olive tree
branches of which
reached out to the mediterranean
i was a keffiyeh
salty, tired and sweaty
in my lands
they opened the doors
to remotes
then curtains were off
i had a country
my hands are reaching ahead to it
i am a rebellious keffiyeh now
hugging all winds of the
mediterranean
i am listening to the sound of Jerusalem
on my olive trees:
blood spots... blood spots
Kivanc
March 15, 2010
Jerusalem
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