Poetry

Kites
Grieving Gaza fathers fling kids’
paper kites on fires as Israel’s armed
force shoots down what stray winds
blow past yellow lines
Salty tears drown fleeting joy for
distraught tented children. Their
anguished cries could move a stone
but not a passive world immune
to persecuted activists and artists
shouting truths at covered ears
from lies that passing time makes
crystal clear
as to killings of aid workers serving,
journalists exposing, five-year-old
Hind Rajab’s pleading on a cellphone
amidst the bodies of the dead
for a Red Crescent rescue as the
Israeli tank that murdered her four
siblings with the parents
also slaughters her
I tremble from the loneliness of
knowing that pervasive “Israel
Right or Wrong” beliefs abound
in temples
at this sacred time when we repent
and make amends for sins and yet
profane the holy prayer
As once airborne string and tissue
playthings snap and crackle in fires
ending innocence for children without
warming hearts and souls