Displaced, dispossessed, damned.
Gazana sifts through the rubble
Her children hungry and cramped.
News arrives of further trouble.

Soldiers have shot her brother.
Who tried to work in the field?
Last month lay to rest her mother.
Along with thousands and the deceased.

Her husband in intensive care.
Somewhere across the created border.
She has no time or luxury of despair.
Cries of her children getting even louder.

The food stores have gone empty.
Near riots for a morsel of food.
Across the wall there is plenty.
The blockade will not ease the mood.

Another brother a grave digger
Does part-time tunnel digging too.
Has lain to rest his daughter Hager.
Who died of a common flu?

With her niqaab she strolls
To clean a damaged school.
Eldest daughter aimlessly patrols.
While the siblings gather wool.

A strip of Mediterranean coast.
Occupied for forty years or more.
Only Power aids the brute and toasts.
Gazana grieves, prostrates and implores.

Its twilight the chant reverberates.
Eleven year son prepares for the prayer.
More deaths reported a neighbour updates.
Check points claim they’re unaware.