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As we enter into the season of peace, I’m relieved that the Palestinians and Israelis agreed to a truce after an intense but brief conflict.  I’m reminded of a favorite poet of mine, Naomi Shihab Nye, whose mother is an American of German and Swiss descent and whose father is a Palestinian refugee.  Her poetry creatively bridges the gap between cultures and people.  I dedicate this poem to the truce and to this season of peace and childhood innocence:  Shoulders by Naomi Shihab Nye.

Remember, we read poetry together here for the pure pleasure of the experience. There are no quizzes, no right ways to read or contemplate the poem we share. Absolutely no dissecting allowed. Just come along for the “read.” What line, word or thought will you carry with you this week? If you’d like to tell us where the poem took you? We’ll listen.

Remember, too, there is a special giveaway in progress for those who comment on any Sunday Poetry blog before year’s end.  The prize is an autographed copy of Billy Collins’s Horoscopes for the Dead. See the details here. I’ve carried this precious autographed book from New York to Virginia, on to North Carolina, and now to Florida. It’s waiting for someone to claim it.

Will it be you?

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