Day 497/Ceasefire Day 27

In the night, her child
comes back to ask her questions.
She sleeps in a tent
on the rubble of her house.  Why?
the child asks.  Why was our house
taken down?  And what
do these stones mean?  She turns,
restless, listening to the rain
that pounds the tent.  Why
did you leave me
alone?  the child
asks her.  Did you have to run
so fast, you could not 
find me?  She wakes,
opens the flap of the tent.  Rain
wets her face more than the tears
already there.  She’s not
even asleep, but her child
is still asking his questions.
She wants to tell him
the whole story:  how
she tried to get to him
but the wall between them
had already collapsed.  How
she grabbed the hand 
of his sister, who
had been sitting beside her,
reading a book.  How they both
called his name, knowing
he was too small to run.
How is it we’re back here,
he asks her, and yet not
back?