Israeli search and rescue teams combed the sands in near 100 degree temperatures, on their hands and knees, in a 1/2 kilometer radius from the explosion point. They were searching for the remains of five of their comrades who were killed when their armored personnel carrier was attacked on Wednesday.

by Leeanne Shilo

How many atoms were in the soul of that boy?
She looks in horror, sees them sift,
faces grim,
seeking him,
the pieces of the boy.

In all the broadcast news reports she heard them say
A chilling sight as this we’ve never seen.
At his side,
as he died,
there were the others with him.

These were the boys who were the partners of his dreams,
who, on some days, were part of all his time,
Now, sifting sand,
through their hands,
silent, they seek the pieces of his life.

And as they find another shred amidst the grains,
the mother folds inside her tortured pain:
I gave a son,
he won’t return,
and in this God-forsaken place will he remain?

How many pieces are enough to represent
the parts that used to be the whole?
Faces grim,
they’re seeking him,
the pieces of the boy.

How many atoms were in the soul of that boy?
She looks in horror, sees them sift,
faces grim,
seeking him,
the pieces of her boy.