When Will This Nightmare End?

by Aura Marsh

12 a.m. I stay awake with the people of Gaza,
wondering if they’ll sleep tonight
beneath the sound of drones and flashing lights.

Skeletal children toss their bones in rubble
for a moment of warmth,
while their parents offer the last morsel of nothing—
except eyes that hold hope,
and an embrace that has never known grief’s end.