Red Sweater Gaza Girl!

“Perhaps you don’t know this
But everyone else does
I am not a soldier; I’m a little girl,
nine years old.
All this land called Gaza is a DMZ.
I do not bear arms against anyone.”

There she stands, intensely, bowl
in hand, her only sweater is red
she’s wearing it…
(she’s a pretty dark eyed girl, with long
dark hair) in bittersweet misery. All
around her, debris from war, no one
consoling her (Gaza—being more like
an army camp, blown apart).

What will she think in passing years?
When years later, she’ll become a woman?
Perhaps she’ll put on a uniform,
no longer shy and embarrassed
of her plight.
Now silently she holds back her tears,
knowing, every little girl in this land,
will sometime have to cry, but not today
she’s hungry.
She also knows someday but not today,
she’ll have to figure out the path
of life she’ll take, in this DMZ.


No: 2762 (7-28-2010) Written in Lima, Peru
Dedicated to the Little Girl in the Red Sweater