Poetry
Foreclosure
nine heads under a single roof
nowhere to go but together, huddled
waiting for the storm to pass. but the landlord
arrived yesterday in the midst of the downpour and
we can’t stay here longer, he said. He said
more things but I could only comprehend the
stress lines on father’s forehead, and the worry
etched in mother’s eyes. I hate for us to be left out
in the rain. Why must the clouds cry?
sharing has become second nature to me.
but I’d rather share my time out with friends alongside
my siblings than share the soil with the sky.
the pitter-patter grated my ears and all I longed for is
to be hugged by the concrete walls, filling it
with my own soft cries. Yet I can’t.
My splintered shield was not only for my own
but for my family. seven days left. I never liked the
number seven.
father claimed he could do something. He’s been
away in the late nights, doing God knows what.
sometimes my brothers followed along, aching and
sweating buckets once they return. And mother,
well, she’s been humming in the kitchen as she
served up her signature dinners, the boys swallowing
it up in one go. Strange. The thunder seemed to
surrender, withholding its swords with sudden grace,
a peek of sunlight winked in it’s place.
“we’re leaving, sayang. Take what you need
and help the others pack.” I wiped my tears and
do as he said. The motorbikes roared as we climbed on
with our worn-out bags. A blanket of warm, faint mist covered our
bodies as we sped away, to where I’m not sure. Gradually,
a row of bright-colored houses popped up. We approached one,
the image still playing in my head in slow motion. Hah?
father must’ve heard me as he hollered, “Surprise!” I could only
stare in awe at the quaint, blue house we are to call
home. Two white pillars carried the porch roof, and a brown wooden
door leaned on the right. It’s paint the color of a clear, sunny sky.
a little pond settled beside it, a row of gardening plants, seeds,
and untouched soil guarding the front gate. Home.
now it stands tall, through the wear and tear. The founder
has gone but the love and heartfelt memories
never left.
Note: If you noticed, I’ve taken down my previous poem “Only in Gaza”. It was simply for copyright reasons as my poem is soon to be published in a book for charity inshaAllah. Please continue to support and learn about Palestine, along with other countries like Sudan and China (Uyghurs). For Muslims, please remember them in your duas and donate to reliable charities, especially this Ramadhan. Thank you.
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