Come Away Come away with me. Come away with me, Little One. Together we’ll go where it’s safe where we can laugh and play and never look over our shoulder or watch what we say. Where they will welcome us, and let us stay Safe.
I don’t even know what to say about this. For so many there is nowhere to run, nowhere to be safe. When I read this poem to my writers group, I barely made it through, even tho it is so short. And that was before Gaza. Before over a million starving, terrified civilians were herded into a corner then trapped, the air filled with the spectre of annihilation. This poem seems crazily hopeful. But of course, it is. It is every mother’s most sincere hope, that she can provide safety for her child. A mother, a father, a sister, brother—whoever. Trying to give the child a hope they aren’t even sure they can find in themselves.