Day 215

Older children are dancing for the smaller children.
Their hands at their waists, they turn their heads,
kick their feet, smile.  Who knows what will happen
later?  Who knows which one has lost
a parent, a brother?  The smaller children sit,
their arms around each other’s shoulders.
Now and then they laugh a little.  The sun
shines, the breeze from the sea chases away
the smells of rotting.  If you didn’t know
you might think it was a normal dance.  A normal day.