I stand here ironing
t-shirts
a green dress
your shirt for work.
And think how absurd
with a genocide
not miles away.

An endless litany of words
drained of all meaning and force.
Genocide, ethnic cleansing,
displacement, occupation,
hostage and liberation.
Under siege and mass atrocities.

Words without context.
Terrorist. Nazi. Zionist. Fascist.
Hamas. Antisemitic.
Jew. Christian. Moslem.
Massacre and holocaust.

Slippery collective shadow
ruthlessly reckless.
Animal. Beast.
Less than human.
Savages.

I ease the iron across a tablecloth
as the numbers move before my eyes.
2.3 million, hundreds of thousands.
1400 dead… 3000 dead… 5000 dead… 8000 dead.
732 entire families dead.
Under the rubble dead.

Non-stop bombardment.
Whispering within
the sliver of silence
not one word.
Peace.

Only the voice of a Jewish grandmother.
Turns to her captor,
shakes his hand,
“Shalom.”
Only the voice of a Palestinian grandmother
learns her daughter dead,
her granddaughter dead,
 “Please come to me in my dreams.
   Because I cannot live without you.”

I stand and iron
your handkerchiefs,
my white summer dress
to hang in closets and place in drawers.
But how to wash and iron
this epic human tragedy?
And in what drawer
do I place it?

Please come to me in my dreams.
Because I cannot live without you.
God’s mercy.
God’s charity.
Love and kindness.
Justice.
Empathy and compassion.
But most of all
Peace.

Catherine Ann Lombard
November 1, 2023