Day 418

Wake up, wake up, the world is on fire
the boy says to his older sister, but his sister
looks out through the flap of the tent and sees
it’s only another bomb dropped on another place
not far from where they are.  The sky over there
is orange, it’s all flame.  Her brother is shaking her,
pulling the sleeve of her sweatshirt, 
We have to get out, he’s saying,
before it comes for us, but the girl
takes him in her arms, rocks him
for a moment, then holds
him still, assures him it’s not
their time. Not now. Not yet.  Wake up wake up
the boy keeps saying, though they’re both
sitting, both looking out.  How
is it possible she’s grown
used to this?  She is wondering now
who the people are who are being killed
over there, whether there are some 
like herself, her brother,
who have lost their parents, tried 
to stay alive, keep each other alive.
Fire blooms in the sky like a strange flower.