FLIGHT INTO EGYPT

it broke into his brain like a rising sun 
familiar as the brother
who is gone
the pomegranate 
last ate in Egypt 
reappears
in my winter bowl

he says
I know how to open it 
show me I say
I will do it 
he says
he takes a knife 

I let him have it
he stabs a window 
in its proud flesh
he tugs the crown away 
unkinging it
the diadem pulled open 
reveals an elaborate brain 
folded on itself
a thin white skin 
and bleeding pearls 
a thousand rubies
packed like bees in a hive 
like mice in their nest

pry them out 
roll them out
with strong piano fingers 
crimson seeds on the floor 
blood on the floor
we run it under water
he thumbs each seed like a note 
on a plump harp
I almost said heart 
until his bowl is filled 
and he
asks for a spoon and reclaims 
his lost country
one spoonful of bloody seeds 
at a time


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Anna Gold is a native Northern Californian who has lived and worked in Central and Southern California and on the east coast in Washington DC, Boston, and Central Massachusetts. She has written poetry all her life, and in the last two years has worked to bring public attention to poetry written by survivors of the war in Gaza. West Marin Review and Three Decker have previously published her work.