Astute War

Astute War

By Shano Mohammed

Yesterday my town fell ill

at dead of a sunless dawn

from its eyes, a fire blazed

dazzlingly everyone rode

From a Phoenix bird

to ants’ swarms.

At the feet of astute war,

brought to their knees,

until they grew frail,

mothers in faint voices wept

from what they have bled,

for what they have borne.

on sidewalks and under tents,

children were born

others were abandoned

little girls were placed,

Under barren trees and on hills,

for fate to step in.

grandmothers went underworld

not even a slight handwave

for a goodbye to hold on

Solemn kisses were left

On forehead of youth years

Spring dreams by tombstones at rest

one prayer mat

centered muezzin and saint

Whose minaret died

For the sake of marine corps

I asked my mother

who are the new arrivals?

shouldn’t we serve visitors tea?

what differs them from the usual?

little did I know!

our tea and land fell in their hands

and we no longer owned our house

little did I know

she was making Sophie’s choice

to remain and have faith

or flee and save us both!

At frontline rebel forces formed

Fathers bravely relented

Wrestling foreign forces alone

there was not much of a choice

food, schoolbooks, legal papers

In Nana’s colorful hand-sewed suitcase

from cradle to coffin

one purpose and only one

From remnants in unified rage

to rise above mines and guns

one step after another

fleeing death on feet

until the sky appears overhead

towards foreign fields able to bear

Wounded identities and weeping hearts

beyond the borders of the homeland

where our humanity was crossed out

Shano Mohammed is a rising second-year student in the MAAS program.

This poem was originally published in the Spring/Summer 2023 CCAS Newsmagazine.