Our feet patter pathetically across cold concrete,
Bare to the elements and the whim of gravity.
Murder coated rockets are whizzing towards us
Through the black sparkling skies above our heads.
Safety is eventually reached with seconds to spare
As the siren ceases and the eeriness begins its stare.
Then after a few laboured breaths their message arrives,
In the form of a distant boom and a trembling ground.
By Edward Beaman-Hodgkiss
For the last few days, Israel has been under attack from terrorists in the Gaza Strip. This poem documents the experiences I have encountered when rocket alert sirens have sounded across the city of Ashdod at night and the damage they cause both to humans and property.