Fragment Of Memory

In one corner of memory,
 there was Gaza—
 A city that never fully materialized in my eyes.
Time did not permit me to embrace all its neighborhoods:
.To walk every road, to linger in every alley
But there are places that hold a piece of me:

The fishermen’s harbor 
and the corn vendor’s stall,
Gathering Places each day
 where we used to sit,
 when the sea
 was a friend to everyone.
 Samir’s bookstore and the university café—
 places filled with the echo of laughter
 that had not yet learned the language of war

“The voice of Jerusalem” wafted from Uncle Khalid's shop
Ume Ziad’s balcony, scented with orange cakes 

When flower seller was selling joy
And roadside bakery,
 where bread was taken
 without fear,
 before reaching for it
 became
 a form of death.

 All of them transformed into places lost in memory.
And on the map…
 Graves where the remnants of the city now lie.
And every grave carries a story,
 Every story bleeds inside me,
 As if I have become identity-less,
 Without a land, without a memory—
 A displaced soul in Gaza