Jaffa Sweet Smell

Jaffa Sweet Smell

I have a key to a home that has no door nor walls
but i can still smell jaffa oranges sweet in the breeze
over there a park where a village once stood
so my grandmother told me one day

Have you been to the sea
i’ve never been there but my grandfather has
it was warm and salty he says
but the wet of the sea is not allowed

Not too long ago we walked this land from water to water
over the hills and down into the farms tending rows and rows of orchards
some of the olive trees were thousands of years old
before armored bulldozers came broke and razed them

Al Quds is a dream for all of us to see
without roadblocks and checkpoints
without smug smartass soldiers barking and pushing
that day seems so far away

What is ours we cannot build upon
for illegal immigrants with an army tear it down
Yet they build what they want where they want
with all the water filling their pools as our crops wither and die

i walked with children in the southern Hebron hills
on public dirt roads not bothering no one
but then it rides down from inside a colony
guns waving, curses launched from inside of following cars

In the courts to be tried by foreigners in your land
in a military court what chance do you have
someone somewhere saw you throw a rock at a tank
you must pay for scratching the paint

Inside the fetid cell between your beatings
the words of your grandparents echo in your heart
you can almost smell the oranges on the limbs of Jaffa
you can almost taste the salt of the sea….

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