when i was two my Baba broke his shoulder
so he took a vacation from sixteen hour days
on the store floor and we flew to the ‘iblad
just me and my Dad
in a yellow taxi cab
from the airport in Amman
i was so cold in the back seat Baba in front
he covered me with the first thing he could find
a nightgown from our suitcase
at my uncle’s house i dance and sing
in a red dress with white dots
my hair is curt around my tiny face
i didn’t get fat until i was eight
everyone just loves this girl
who can sing all the folk songs
i am Baba’s girl through and through
so much that i won’t sleep unless he is near me
tonight i sat at the table with my Baba
and we sang sakkar ma’mal il sukkar
my jam when I was two
we sang with accompaniment
the crackling grill and cackling sisters and careening kids
my mother laughing laughing at old jokes
on land that used to be an Israeli army camp
in the outskirts of Beit Sahour
we can still see the watchtower looming over “Area C”
but tonight “C” is for “cover me”
which i do when Baba gets cold
in the cool air of ‘Ush ‘Ghrab
and now he’s in the next room sleeping
because hamdillah outside our love
i cannot rest