A Nation’s Grief for Her Neighbors
By Aisha Al-Tarawneh
Identifies with the nation of Jordan
Mountains sprawl back on foggy thrones
and olive trees stuff leaves in
their maws to keep from moaning in
agony. There is a smell of fear kissing
the tips of the sky outside an enclave’s
borders and reaching
tents line a country’s edges
like exposed bone, white, pained– crimson
insides of fig fruits stain
children’s smiles gently. Eagles spread wings in
the cradle of the heavens; a subtle
undercurrent of strength washes
through valleys, and winter settles with
a sigh of relief upon elevated cities;
snow is brief, like a whisper of a
promise. Pain ripples through the wind,
ruffling cotton clouds, running
trembling fingers through soft hair,
murmuring quiet pleas and the Arabian
horse with an angled face crumples to
her knees in helplessness to carry
aching neighbors out of their misery.
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Aisha Al-Tarawneh, 20, is a Jordanian-Danish student who aspires to become a psychologist someday. A two-time Best of the Net nominee, you can find her work in The Ekphrastic Review, Roi Faineant, The Eyre, Spark to Flame and more. Her hobbies include western horseback riding, Olympic archery and kickboxing, as well as watching her favourite ice hockey players play for their teams.