Day 256

(with love for Refaat)

No pause, there is none.  No respite.
And yet when she wakes she is grateful
for light.  Grateful for the breath
of her children beside her.  They
are still there, despite everything.
Outside the tent there are people moving,
gathering weeds to eat, taking cupsful
of water from a jug someone has brought.
Day begins.  People greet one another,
ask how the night was.  Once she dreamed
of the books she would write; now
it is just about staying alive, keeping
her children alive.  Hour to hour. 
The smallest one wakes,
cries. She is thinking of what
she will feed him; her breasts empty,
the bag where she keeps what food
she can find, empty.  She takes him
in her arms, sings to him. ( If I must die
you must live/to tell
my story….) Later
she will go looking.  For now
what she can offer him
is a song. This story.