Regarding the List of 324 Iraqi Academics Assassinated
This shadowed
morning
you write
thought
and read
the garden
You
readjust
the graded
papers
in your
briefcase
and wait for
the enemies
of knowledge
to arrive
Teaching
is like
watering
a garden
you think
Everything
doesn’t grow
at once
but every
growing thing
needs water
Someone will
find your body
and next to it
the book that
holds the poems
that they came
to kill you
for writing
But
if you are
still alive
in an hour
you will drive
to the
university
and teach
your first class
Editorial note: This poem complements Persis Karim’s Shadow and Light poems from this same issue.