Oh, Swallow
As you depart our spring
slow down.
In the wood burner's exhaust pipe
as the firewood came inside,
you forgot your echo.
Oh, Swallow,
slow down.
With the feather in the
window, Swallow,
we adorned
the martyr's picture
and death flew out of the picture.
Slow down, Swallow.
The nest belongs
to whoever builds it.
---Hala Mohammad
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