Fathers and Sons of Gaza

By Vincent R. Pozon

He does not look at the child in his arms
he looks only ahead, his feet fly
at the spur of worry, does a child
weigh less when it loses playfulness?
he does not look at the child in his arms

The stagger of his run makes the limbs
of the child sway, giving a semblance
of breathing, his arms tighten to keep
the pieces from falling, he searches
for succor in the eyes of other men;
he meets only quiet hopelessness
sitting on rubble of erstwhile homes.