Photo by Keba Evans Copyright 2006

What Happened to My Lebanon?

After an Article by Anwa Damon of CNN

The journalist writes down her city's face—
Beirut, who's seen more than her share of war.
The cease fire trembles in the hands of grace.

The smell of rotting bodies wrecks the place.
A girl snaps cell phone photos of the gore.
The journalist writes down the tear-stained face.

A chandelier still hangs in blackened space—
no children play and laugh here anymore.
The cease fire trembles in the hands of grace.

A building's stone façade blown off—no trace
of life but green—a couch on the tenth floor.
She notes the bleakness of the city's face.

The shell-shocked people value each embrace;
the call to prayer seems louder than before.
The cease fire trembles in the hands of grace.

Beirut's ten years of progress are erased,
though people smile, depression gnaws their core.
The journalist laments her city's face.
The cease fire twists the gnarled hands of grace.

by Harriet Leach

Harriet O. Leach has work in the current issues of Antithesis Common, Blood Lotus, and Perigee, as well as various print journals. She is finishing an MFA at Spalding University where she is a student editor at The Louisville Review. She spends her days immersed in student writing as a teacher and tutor, and sweats over her own writing at night while her partner blares the TV and furry friends climb on the keyboard and threaten to spill water and ruin everything. She wouldn't have it any other way.

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