Day 540

from a photograph

It’s Eid
and the children have been given
new clothes!  The sister and brother —
maybe five and seven? — stand,
a little awkwardly, not yet used
to the feel of clean cotton jeans,
ironed new shirts, black
shoes with shiny rubber soles —
the boy’s laces not yet tied. The girl
has a light checkered jacket,
too big around the shoulders; the boy,
a long-sleeved gray t-shirt.  They stand
so proudly, looking straight
at the camera, having thanked
whoever it is who has managed
to get these clothes to them
from far away.  Who knows
what they have lost; who knows
how many times they have had
to move, to walk for hours.  Who knows
who is alive to help the boy learn
to tie his laces, how many months
of healthy food  
it will take for the girl
to grow into her jacket. May these clothes
never be soaked in blood. May they
get dirty with the dirt of running,
climbing.  May they be worn
until these children’s arms
are too long for the sleeves, 
until the shoes have holes
from toes growing longer, longer.