Day 532

No fresh food at the markets.  No pause
between bombs, no 
light.  No light!  A child
killed by a sniper, who made it alive
through sixteen months.  Her mother
tired, weak, doing what she can
to keep her other children
alive.  A can of tuna, a can
of peaches, which only a week ago
she could afford, so expensive
now.  Choose one.  Choose 
which child will get half
a can, which ones
get less.  All the fears
she let go for a moment
hammer at her in her sleep,
through the day.  And the daughter
who’s missing stands
in the empty space
she left, her eyes wide open,
asking why.  Why?