Rivka Hia

Protective Edge (A Poem)

Protective Edge

Operation Protective Edge

Literally “Sturdy Cliff”

I can’t say I feel quite sturdy

But I do feel as if our country is falling

Off a cliff


No protection

Simply on edge


Rockets flying

The world is silent

Three boys missing

Our world explodes

Three boys dead

The saga is over, the world dries its tears


One of theirs


Murdered by our own

(Condemned extremists, rightfully so)

In blood equally chilled

“Monsters” they call us

“Monsters” we should all call ourselves

Our world


Where children sleep under staircases

Glued to their parents’ thighs

Parents who want to live

Go to work, do laundry, drink coffee, take showers

And tuck their children in their covers


Parents who want to trust their children

Who want to not have to worry

About Egged buses, and rides from neighbors

They took us for a ride

On the roller coaster of hate and revenge


We play on the playgrounds of nationalism

Waste our youth in the bomb shelters of fear

Of the other

Are we so different?

About the Author
Rebecca (Rivka) Hia is a New York-based freelance writer and editor.
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