A view of Bekaa Valley. Photo: By Nassif.seif via Wikimedia Commons.
Poem: In the Bekaa Valley
'He buries the tatty soapbox...'
He buries the tatty soapbox
containing what bits of his son’s body
can be found. Digs a pit beneath
the Obaideh, Merwah and Syrah vines
and throws the angst of his anger in there too.
What good does it do him to
drown in the tears that ferments his rage?
A belief in peace always marked
both father and son, nurturing the wine harvest
as well as each other.
At sunset he goes to tender
today’s crop, he has little choice
but to dead-head what dangles
on the wire that surrounds the
broken vineyard.