Life and War with Mikey Fatboy Delgado
Monday, June 19, 2017
"Spring has arrived in Western Galilee..."
Today it was, and a young man arriving
as the last snow of the year melted
woke me from sleep, asking
- pointing to a line on the map,
to the line between us and them -
Am I in the right place? Is it here
that we come to face our enemies?
Spring plants were on the table and the room
was beautified by the day’s air. It smelt
nothing like the cologne we sprayed in the tank
after we cleaned the last of the dead man from it.
The young man, the new replacement, stood
at the open window looking north and spoke
about how beautiful Lebanon looks from here.
And the sky, he said, goes from the left edge
of the world right across to the right edge,
and where it is white it is whiter
than I have ever seen. As we listened
to the radio crackle of a patrol
trapped by fedayeen to the north of here
he wrapped himself between the fringes
of his prayer shawl and prayed to his god.
I sat at the window and breathed the Spring air.
Listening to the bells of unshepherded goats
I opened these pages and wrote this letter.