My Gardener is enthusiastic.
He kills all the weeds in my garden,
In purple droplets,
In the midday sun, he
My perfect weeds I spent so long cultivating,
And whites ones,
Jewish and Muslim,
Now the name of Hebron formerly was Kiriath-arba.
(Arba was the greatest man among the Anakim.)
And the land had rest from war,
My gardener has turned into a terrorist, and
My weeds are no longer safe.
♦Photo – Gay Israel on Pininterest♦
-short evocative poetry-