Day 385

(Jabaliya)

They are digging through the rubble
to find the girls, and what they find
is a piece of green t-shirt, a hem
of a dress.  No voice, no crying, no
halting breaths.  A small boy stands
holding his father’s hand, watching
the neighbors who are still alive
dig for his sisters.  No voice, no
crying, his breathing shallow but there.
He’s hoping they’ll find them
and hoping they won’t.  Could there be a room
under the rubble where his sisters sit,
reading the books they’ve read to him?
Have the rugs fallen with the walls
so his sisters have someplace warm
to sleep?