Day 467

What use is a ceasefire, the girl
says to her brother, who isn’t
listening, when our parents
are dead, our sisters, the baby
who breathed two weeks and was
gone?  What use their telling us
we can go home, when there’s no
home anywhere?  Yet
children are linking arms, laughing
as they run down the ruined
streets. People are blasting music
from phones, dancing
over the rubble.  The girl
stands like a statue
outside her tent, shivers
a little from the cold.  It’s night.
Everyone’s awake.  Planes
are still crossing the sky.
She sees two girls she knows
racing past her, singing
some song she remembers
from before.  Before….
One of them waves to her
to come join them.  She takes
her brother’s cold small hand,
calls out to them — they’re far
ahead of her now — Wait! Wait for us!
Runs to catch up.