Arlene Distler
|
For The Women Of Afghanistan For The Women Of Afghanistan They seem to be flying, their burquas black wings as they speed from one sand-colored house to the next, dark angels bringing light. They sit with the other women, faces uncovered. Don’t be afraid – it is your duty to vote, they tell themselves and each other. What is there to lose? Stones, walls, stares of men like hot coals. In the houses, pots of steaming lentils, flat bread baking; dust under fingernails, toes bound in strips of hide. Outside, guns and the blood red fruit. Raging Dove |