Crimson Poppies

Crimson Poppies

By Aigerim Bibol

For the children of Gaza 

Crimson poppies sway gently in the breeze as 

girl and boy race through the open field. 

Her dress billows as she spins, faster and faster until

she collapses into his arms, breathless. 

Little hands build worlds from the dust of the earth. Wind

carries laughter, bright as morning dew. Hearts light as

drifting petals. But that was before. 

Before the sky fractured into a thousand shards of gray.

Before the white-hot blaze swallowed the sun. 

Before the birds stopped singing. 

Two small bodies lie on blackened soil. Crimson blooms

from her tattered dress, stains his scorched shirt. 

Milky white eyes once filled with wonder 

stare at the treacherous clouds above. 

Little hands now cold, fingers still clutching a broken 

stem. Only the maggots bear witness, air thick with the stench 

of charred dreams. Memories wither with each passing

season. Soon, new life begins to stir. 

Poppies rise from the ashes, stand guard over the dying

embers. Roots entwined with bone, heads 

bowed in prayer. Swaying in the breeze…

Author Bio: Aigerim Bibol is a high school senior and poet from the DC area. A Genre Managing Editor for Polyphony Lit, she has been recognized by the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards, The Pulitzer Center, and Roanoke Review, among others. Her work has been published in Diamond Gazette, The Stirling Review, Pen&Quill, and more. When she’s not reading or writing, she can be found singing along to Taylor Swift, binge-watching Gilmore Girls, and drinking copious amounts of coffee.