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For Raff Ellis
How many generations
have we been peddlers of notions,
our ribbons of battle
fluttering from kashishi –
livelihood out of suitcases –
from packs, from the karra
your father pushed ten miles
along the Black River?
Selling like a Syrian woman.
Like Aunt Christine,
dismissed at Ellis Island
(Country of origin: Syria
Race: Colored)
Christine, whose narrow wrists
I inherited, lifting her brother
from Mount Lebanon
with a year’s iconic work.
In the formal photograph
they sent back to the home
of war and famine
her hand is on his shoulder,
proudly thickened by labor
as his hands, resting
unaccustomed at his sides.
Now with softened hands
we wind our ribbons
through a maze of notions.
Inshallah, we can do no other.
From Arab on Radar (Six Gallery Press). Copyright 2008 Angele Ellis.
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Angele Ellis’ grandfather Toufik Ellis (Kmeid) and his sister Christine Kmeid LaBrie.
So happy that Angelle is peddling these lovely notions again for all of us on Vox Populi. These are important poems, especially now.
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Reblogged this on O LADO ESCURO DA LUA.
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