Baalbek, Lebanon by Marguerite Guzman Bouvard

A man is curled up on the sidewalk,
sleeping, while passersby
are absorbed in their conversations
as they stroll to the café

around the corner. Here
there is no shelter
for the Syrian refugee who rests,
with only a small bundle

at his side, but who carries
the times he sat at the table
with the cup of tea his wife
served him, the touch

of her hand, the moonlight
on their bed, the bird song
that greeted him at dawn,
crossing the street on an ordinary

day, and then sudden explosions,
and fusillades, a tangle of screams,
and wailing in a city
of ruins, of fragments from

so many centuries,
and then a pause, a silence,
like no other in  a war
that will always live inside him.


One thought on “Baalbek, Lebanon by Marguerite Guzman Bouvard

  1. ericamilesx

    A stunning capture of poverty and destitution in the wake of war, with simple, coherent flashbacks to a normal life lived before, where a husband and wife loved and cared for each other, never suspecting their intimacy would be so cruelly disrupted.



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