Fragments of Gaza
A dog’s body is clogged in a film of debris,
it’s shadow iced by a hue of blood,
thick black smoke from a fresh pile of concrete rubble kiss the chocolate sky,
Welcome to the strip.
Shell-shocked human shields with dead pan faces turn to the flotsam,
there is absolutely nothing to hold,
human claws vanish,
not,
A little drizzle after the bombs,
not
a whimper or a cry in the distant,
not,
bullet shrapnel tazing the wind,
nothing,
Just beautiful homes disappearing into the volcano of ego.
– Fortune Omosola. ( Published poet on amazon.com )
