As autumn creeps in front yards
the groomed suburban scenery changes
With no thoughts of lingering here
Canada geese fly south to beyond
Sitting by the window when moonlight stirs
I raise my cup to you an ocean away
The hours are fast in flight
the bright moon has dimmed her rays
My heart is bound with sorrow
I hear the night’s passing
When shall we lean against the window
in the brightness, our tears dried up
February 2010 Issue of Word Catalyst
Special Feature: Selected Poems for Reflections on Reporters Without
Borders' Report: "The Israeli Army Is the Worst Enemy of Journalists"
-
*The first casualty, when war comes, is truth.*
-- Hiram Johnson (1866-1945)
"*Israel's oldest daily, Haaretz," which was was sanctioned by the Israeli
g...
