In Gaza
by Kevin McCann, with image above by Martin Gollan
There’s a boy,
Maybe three, maybe four,
Dirty knees,
Dusty face,
Tousled hair
And within arm’s reach
There’s another,
Probably his brother,
Head bandaged,
One eye patched over,
His tee-shirt blood streaked.
They reach out,
One to another,
Try to hold hands
But can’t manage.
They’re shaking too much.
