Day 317

I cannot forget the picture of this child
on the floor of the hospital,
her legs bare, no muscle, just skin
stretched over bone.  You can see
one of her arms, skeletal as well.
I cannot forget her, cannot stop thinking
how she must have grown thinner
day after day:  at first, perhaps, imperceptibly.
Then this.  I want to think she remembers
running, playing, eating.  I want to think
someone will find a way to feed her.
I want to think that slowly, slowly,
she will return to herself.  Her legs
will carry her.  Her arms 
will be able to lift a ball, a book, a glass.
I want to think she is still alive:  that
most of all.  That something deep
inside her could be enough
to nourish her.  That the picture I saw
was not the last picture taken of her.