A moment of heaven
In the hell of the holy land
With the friendship and laughter of the women
Harvesting these ancient ancestral trees
Combing the black and green oives
From the silver branches
Onto sheets laid over red and yellow ochre earth
Under sapphire blue sky
The sweet bitter smell of olives baking in the hot sun
Shovelled by beautiful strong hands
Into hessian sacks, sewn up with a huge needle and string.

- Paula Cox