Washing War Off Me by Susan Notar The sun hovers like a raw red egg yolk over the water at the edge of the horizon. Dogs dodge, children squeal. Somewhere a colibri sips sugar from a purple climber vine. I sit sipping Herrudura freshly squeezed lime from a salt-rimmed glass watching. Emblazoned in my memory a child is pulled from the rubble in Aleppo a sixteen-year-old girl is raped on a public street in Bucha. How at the sea when the sky isn’t scarred by buildings or bombs biting it we allow ourselves peace. Somehow the sea heals me too and allows me to hope for the return of the light. Copyright 2023 by Susan Notar
Susan Notar is a Pushcart prize nominated poet who has flown over Iraq in helicopters wearing body armor and makes a mean beurre blanc sauce. Her work has appeared in numerous publications including Antologia de Poemas, Alianza Latina, Burningword, Burgeon, The Bridgewater Review, The Forgotten River, Gyroscope, Joys of the Table: An Anthology of Culinary Verse; Penumbra, The Poet, Poets for Ukraine, The Poetry Society of Virginia Centennial Anniversary Anthology, and Written in Arlington. She works for the U.S. State Department helping vulnerable communities in the Middle East.
