This poem is taken from PN Review 201, Volume 38 Number 1, September - October 2011.
Three Poems
Syria Renga
Driving a flatbed
truck of sheep alongside
the Qalamoun hills, he
glances at the mountains and
thinks of his brothers who are
still in Kirkuk. Once
borders were porous, work meant
crossings, for those who
are amateur refugees
now, inadvertent exiles.
Two hundred miles from
the refugee camp outside
Damascus, Zainab
descends the stone ramp from Baal's
temple, becomes her namesake
...
Driving a flatbed
truck of sheep alongside
the Qalamoun hills, he
glances at the mountains and
thinks of his brothers who are
still in Kirkuk. Once
borders were porous, work meant
crossings, for those who
are amateur refugees
now, inadvertent exiles.
Two hundred miles from
the refugee camp outside
Damascus, Zainab
descends the stone ramp from Baal's
temple, becomes her namesake
...
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