عید المیلاد السوري
Arabian oryx gallop through the land.
Snow falls on the dome rooftops of
mosques. Fireplaces roar. The rich smell of
fatteh. The sound of Christmas carols
filling the world. Excited children peeking
through shop windows, tugging their
parents’ burkha. Snowflakes fall softly,
forming pancakes of snow on top of cars,
falling on head-scarves like icing-sugar
falling on ma’amoul.
Now, the snowflakes are bullets. The cars
peppered with holes. Smashed windows.
Children still running through the streets,
through the rubble of their favourite stores.
The relentless crackle of gunshots.
Constantly hiding, clutching my Christmas
memories. Seeking refuge. Remembering
the smell of fatteh. The snow sprinkling on
top of head-scarves like ma’amoul. The
pancakes of snow on top of every car in
the city. Collapsing onto the soft snow. An
icy white pool of darkness.
St Andrew’s College