A review by halfcactus
Things You May Find Hidden in My Ear: Poems from Gaza by Mosab Abu Toha

dark reflective sad

They didn't find a place to bury you.
They carried you on their shoulders,
wandered through the neighborhood,
stopped at your childhood school
and the old park.

The houses never saw you.
They've already packed their bags.
Dust has erected a tent in the corners.
Rust has landed with its worn-out clothes
  on the tap
and on the spoon.
It seals from the water its soft slide,
while you,
you sleep on moving sand.