I sit
as is my habit
on the balcony
at night
and wonder
about the people
in the homes
across the way
what do they think about
hearing the cat cry
in the courtyard
its voice so much
like a child’s
do they think
of the children
of the women
crying in the rubble
not so very far away
in Gaza
and feel as helpless
as I feel
who can’t even help
a cat crying
in the night