I heard it on the news 
Not the mainstream kind, no 
Their stories unravel to a sepulchral beat
Where the truth lies buried under bones and teeth
This was another source 
I read the caption and my heart 
Burst again 
Those men, women and children
Were shot, sniped to the floor 
Because they’d gathered to collect 
Food, that had been plentiful before
Growing in their fields and in their groves
Now razed into cavernous holes
Bleeding crimson into bare soles
Into bare souls 
Bearing souls of loved ones gone
On hearts and shoulders cut and torn
Holding on to hope for one more hour
Budding gently like a flower 
Reaching for a little flour 
For loved ones that still breathed amid
The glowing flitter of their dead
They reached for hope spattered in red
They reached for hope pockmarked with lead
They reached for hope among their dead
They reached and were shot in their heads

Vermillion petals drift again in the wind
Blooming in the ether of Palestine.