Day 213

We are waiting.
We are waiting for the child to be born.
We are waiting for the bombs to fall on our tent.
We are waiting for the first light of morning.
We are waiting for trucks to come, carrying food.
We are waiting for food to be unpacked from the trucks.
We are waiting for snipers on the ground to shoot their first shots.
We are waiting for the air to warm up.
We are waiting for the air to cool down.
We are waiting for the child.  We are waiting
for the child to cry his first cry.   We are waiting
for the child to stop crying.  We are waiting
for the wound to heal.  We are waiting
for the parents to name their child.
We are waiting for the grandmother to claim him.
We are waiting for help to come
from beyond the borders.  We are waiting 
for the borders to open.   We are waiting
for next month, next year.  We are waiting
for the sound of children’s voices
to come again from the parks, the schoolyards.
We are waiting for the last light of day.
We are waiting for the first star, the star
that is seen from here and from anywhere.