Day 378

A girl had a bird in a cage.
A beautiful bird, a cockatiel.
The cage golden, like a golden bell.
They spoke to each other, the bird
rode on her shoulder, the girl
stroked the bird and smiled
at her; it was clear
they loved each other.
Girl and bird in a tent.  How
they made people smile 
when they walked by.  How
it was clear that whatever
the girl had, she shared 
with the bird:  a morsel
of bread, a slice of fruit.
Did you tell me the bombers
came?  Did you say the bombs
set the tents on fire?  Flames
everywhere, smoke.  The tents
collapsing, everything
turned to ash, and the girl
and her bird: ash.  The golden cage,
its bars melted from the heat, sheltering
nothing but ash.