Day 511/Ceasefire Day 41

The girl was walking to get water
for her family.  There was
no one else:  father dead,
mother sick, younger brothers
not strong enough to carry back
heavy buckets.  She was walking,
stepping over piles of rock,
now and then slipping in deep
mud.  Walking, carrying
buckets.  Filled them.  Turned
to walk back.  Rain.  The buckets
swaying, overflowing, precious
water spilled on the ground,
useless.  That’s when
the sniper spotted her,
trapped her in his crosshairs,
shot.  That’s when
she fell.  Bleeding.  The buckets
too, full of holes. Rain
raining down on her body,
the buckets emptying. 
Emptying. No way to separate
blood from water.