Night after night we count, 
remember swirling desert sands,
scorching hot sun, the endless
distance to the nearest oasis.

Day after day we count,
missile attacks, interrupted dreams, 
the number of seconds to reach
the mamad, the miklat.

We count how many died,
how many maimed and broken, 
how much longer we can drag ourselves 
through the wilderness.

How many days, how many steps
to wherever it is we are going.

How will we know when we arrive
if we don’t know where we belong?




(c)marthahurwitz2026