Lines Upon Lines
A web of borders and walls has grown denser-
now a Yellow Line cuts through Gaza, dividing families and futures in the name of ceasefire.
A marker of withdrawal, a boundary behind which soldiers stand, controlling fifty-eight percent
of an enclave already broken.
Before the Yellow Line came the Green Line:
the 1949 armistice boundaries,
drawn with a simple green pen,
meant to be temporary but lasting decades-
not a border but a scar dividing what was once whole.
Then the Blue Line appeared to the north,
marking where Lebanon meets Israel,
drawn by the United Nations in 2000,
another "temporary" demarcation
monitored by peacekeepers in blue helmets.
From Green to Blue: fifty-one years.
From Blue to Yellow: twenty-five.
The intervals between our lines grow shorter
temporary solutions accelerating,
each new color promising peace
while the palette of division expands.
What shade will mark the map twelve years from now?
These lines -green, blue, yellow-
if mixed together would make a murky brown,
the color of earth,
the color of the land's indigenous people.
These arbitrary boundaries-
drawn through olive groves and ancient streets,
through family homes and centuries of memory -
become more than marks on maps.
They transform into invisible barriers,
dividing not just territory but our collective humanity,
cutting through our capacity to see ourselves in others.
The mountain does not know where it is divided.
The rain falls on both sides of the line.
The roots of trees reach deep below all borders.
Only humans honor these imaginary cuts across the continuous fabric of our earth.
-
This poem was inspired by the establishment of the "Yellow Line" in Gaza in October 2025 as part of a U.S.-brokered ceasefire agreement between Israel and Hamas. Following two years of genocide that began in October 2023, this line marked the boundary of Israeli military withdrawal in the first phase of the ceasefire.
The Yellow Line represents a physical and political division that leaves approximately 58% of Gaza under Israeli control. Initially invisible and later marked with concrete barriers topped with yellow-painted posts, this boundary has been the site of deadly confrontations when Palestinians attempted to return to their homes, unaware of exactly where the line was located.
The poem connects this newest demarcation to the historical pattern of lines drawn across this contested region: the Green Line (established after the 1948-49 war) and the Blue Line (established by the UN in 2000 between Israel and Lebanon). Each of these boundaries was described as "temporary" yet has endured for decades, becoming both physical and psychological barriers.
The accelerating timeframe between these lines—from fifty-one years to twenty-five years—raises the unsettling question of what new divisions might appear in the years ahead, while the poem contemplates how these artificial boundaries cut through not just land, but human connection and shared humanity.