Unholy Sand

Short poem for Huda Ghaliya, whose family was destroyed by a "stray" shell in Gaza

Sunny today, skipping home from math
And art, I like to draw
It’s sunny, but not so pleasant here
Here, this place, the Nakba, our catastrophe, hear the pain
Ten thousands, fifty here, death in Bethlehem, sixty years
Attack, the terror, their terror and hours, murder-death-kill
Exiled in the Holy Land, charred bodies, reddened hands
Sunny today, skipping home from class
Beach later, and I love the sand
I can forget the Wall, and forget the booms
Streaking jets of sonic terror supplied by Empire
Build those little castles made of sand
Above a soft whistling, violining; louder, nearer the ground
A flash, white heat enveloping; twisted, bloody bodies follow
Sunny tomorrow, I won’t be skipping any more
Another “accidental” target error
Another family blown away
Another Gazan day