Day 244

The child, Sara, who was burned
is dancing out of the burn unit.
The whole staff of the burn unit — somehow
this child was sent to New York — it’s
a hospital on Staten Island — is dancing
behind her.  Someone is playing music
from their phone.  They are all 
dancing:  nurses, secretaries, surgeons.
Her body is stiff, her arms
badly scarred, but she
is whole!  She is dancing!
I am thinking now of the life
she had before this.  Asking now
whether anyone — mother?
Father? Sister? — accompanied her
from Gaza to New York.  
I am thinking of what it was
that might have saved her, 
when so many others
have perished — what chance, what
stranger’s commitment, what
unaccountable love?  And what
will she do now that she is
released?  Sara who has survived.
Sara who has been returned to life.
Sara who may well have nowhere
to return to, no one
to welcome her.