Children Killed on a Beach in Gaza

by Margery Parsons / July 21st, 2024

A group of children, cousins,
were playing on a beach in Gaza
near the fishing boats of their fathers,
enjoying the sun and sea air,
the musical sounds of water,
laughing and shouting
in the way of young boys,
kicking a soccer ball around,
glad to be there
away from their days
of rubble and sorrow.
Even in an open-air prison,
even in a bombed-out concentration camp
hemmed in
by barbed wire,
children will always find joy
somewhere.
They were in the one place they felt safe
but there were monsters in the air
who breathed fire on those children twice,
their still-growing bodies,
their tousled hair.
They ran for their lives.
Of seven
only three survived.
How will these survive their nightmares?
How will they grow up to be men
not haunted by hate?
Only
with a fight for freedom
where “never again”
means anyone anywhere, everyone’s children─
only
before it is too late.

Margery Parsons is a poet and advocate for a radically different and better world. She lives in Chicago and in addition to poetry loves music and film. Her poems have been published in Rag Blog, Poetry Pacific, Calliope, New Verse News, OccuPoetry, Rise Up Review, Haiku Universe, Madness Muse Press and Illinois Poetry Society, with a forthcoming poem in Plate of Pandemic. Read other articles by Margery.

This article was posted on Sunday, July 21st, 2024 at 8:03am and is filed under Poetry.