Day 200

The waves mount and break
on the shore.  Mount, crest, and break.
One day we will walk together
on the beach in Gaza.
We will sit in cafés that will be rebuilt.
We will talk of poets, of those whose words
surged, gathered force, poured
over the land like the waves
coming in continually from the sea, 
which nothing — not their bombs, 
not their viciousness, not
the snide laughter that covers their lying —
can stop.