“Driving home from work, our white and yellow plates will clog the streets; at the checkpoints, cars will stretch far into the distance; and on the bypass roads, orange buses will sit heavy with students. The trees have always known better— they let strange winds rush into their arms; they cast borders and then they reverse them.” PoetryFearPoemBordersSuspicionTreesPalestineRejectingWelcomingCheckpoints Author:Dalia Taha