For the rose farmers of Afghanistan
Some plant bombs or exploding, bloody poppies. But you sow slowly opening prayers, you sow roses, you grow soul. Lovers, you pluck Beloved, petals sweating, heavy with holy odours, you pack pink kisses of peace on your backs, a peace so volatile, so sweet, you make acres of rose oil near Kabul and wash away screams, wash away war from its streets, wash away horror with your rosewater, you perfume your homeland like a mosque.
©2022 Leah Callen
All rights reserved
…is a Canadian poet living on the prairies in Saskatchewan. Her verse has appeared in various lit mags including EVENT, The Malahat Review, Contrary, Vallum, CV2, Sequestrum, and Barren. She was longlisted for the 2020 CBC Poetry Prize.