POETRY

Miara

By

The Jewish Cemetery, Marrakech

In this graveyard in Morocco
old tombs are incognito

flattened slabs of stone
abrade and bleach to bone

no letters, sculpture, form
defy the earth and worm

pale dogs nose around
to guard the sacred ground.

I found more recent stones,
a place for fresher bones?

It seemed here, from the piles
of rocks, red flower styles

and scattered petals, new death
had come, but the boy’s last breath

lost to cholera long ago.
Who nursed that ancient sorrow?

Only ten, he had no heir,
yet summoned fifty years of care.

I asked, was this not also to exist?
Marbled, tended, mothered—missed.

Susan de Sola's poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Measure, The Hopkins Review, River Styx, The Raintown Review, American Arts Quarterly, Tilt-a-Whirl, Lavender Review, Amsterdam Quarterly, Light Quarterly, Ambit, Shot Glass Journal, Per Contra, and Fringe Magazine, among other venues. As Susan de Sola Rodstein she has published scholarly essays and book reviews, and has been a winner of the David Reid Poetry Translation Prize. Susan lives near Amsterdam with her family.

In this graveyard in Morocco
old tombs are incognito

flattened slabs of stone
abrade and bleach to bone

no letters, sculpture, form
defy the earth and worm

pale dogs nose around
to guard the sacred ground.