Its heart
Would be sky
The clouds what’s left
Of songs, if Gaza
Were a body it would
Be a family of sounds
Daily prayers
The call of mosques, also
Its scars, the rude interruption
Of bombs
If Gaza were a body
It would pack up
Its streets and homes
Carry its loved ones on its back
It would hold
Each stone from its gardens
In each of its palms to remember their warmth
And as a body it knows exhaustion
Deep joys as so many leaves
On what were once trees, it would
Remember its streets, the ones
Now gone, its hospitals and schools
Its love of mosques, its strawberries
And sea, still sea, a body that will move
Even when hurt, this body
That is Gaza has always
Known sea and what it
Carries and how it
Flows  
And what it  
Keeps
Of all it has
Seen

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