An early November sun sets slowly
over the neighbor’s house, as I nurse
a tumbler of scotch on the front porch.
The tattered tie-dyed peace flag, I bought
as a counter to the MAGA flags down
the street, flutters in the soft evening breeze.
In her hijab, the Muslim mother across
the street marshals her children on their
regular evening walk. I faintly hear
the suburban high school band jauntily
play their fight song at the stadium
across the way. It’s Friday Night! Israeli
jets in Gaza pummel yet another refugee
camp with righteous indignation, and
none of these complicit ironies escape me.
(November 3, 2023)
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