Annotations for a Memorial

Something so light
almost nothing

Not a list of violences
nor reports from beauty

One person looks up
& then another after
another looking
up in the same direction

Who took this picture of Fight ghost town
this is Palestine
graffitied in Hebron (al-Khalil)?

Who wrote, “they bring that desert stuff            to our world”?

My father writes on my wall:
I remember these birds, they used to fly by
the thousands to the wheat fields,
we called them zarzour in Arabic

It begins to waste
like a bar of soap

turned in your hand,
the repeated word

(the boy spins into a curtain)

(whirl-like smoke)

(bewitchingly out of the mouth)

Grief builds a settlement inside you

When Eric played the album of abnormal heart sounds
recorded for medical students,           I felt sorry

And how the brain can’t hold an archive
of every sound you’d like to hear again
You could listen by holding your hand to your ear

Grief will probably
redraft your whole
anatomy:

harbor opens from the chest — 
a cargo ship drifting out,
seen & tracked by a satellite

More Poems by Carolina Ebeid