Something in the Air

A Poem for Gaza

There's something in the air, as sirens sing
The pavements twisted with broken embers of peace,
A  prism of shimmering emptiness as promises lays cursed
Shoes speckled with ichor, abandoned and bereft,
The sad drumbeat of humanity's curse
Tiny hands, rigid fossil like, as fire breaths from a blood
red sky,

The taste of despair drips on tonques

While the dead lie in waves of decaying flesh and bone,

Prayers on all sides, succumb to deep shadows
As sunset descends, into deep labyrinths of hell,
The velocity of winds gather up storms
We maintain vigil, take sides, proliferate opinions,

As the reverberations of suffering and sorrow grow

This experience of darkness,impossible to erase

like black mountains, glimmering across the night sky,

Dreams sealed in chasms of gloom

Ensnared among webs of hopelessness.
In the morning, the chants still ring out
Inshallah, Inshallah, as the weeping mother buries her dead.