Day 403

A boy sits in the dust, playing
with a cat.  The cat leans her head
into the boy’s hand; he strokes her
gently, tenderly.  They are both
so thin, you can see the bones
of his hand and the shape
of the cat’s spine. If these
are their final moments —
in the distance, we know,
there are bombers
approaching — if the last thing
in this world this boy touches
is this cat, at least there is
softness, warmth, affection.
The boy tries to stand, but
he’s too weak.  The cat, too,
lies down:  the effort of friendship
is overwhelming.  The sky darkens,
the planes are closer. Will they walk
out of this life together, child and animal?
Will the dust of their bodies 
mingle with the dust of the ravaged earth?