She turned to the sun and smiled
her weakness fading it fast,
the light had raised hope that
somehow, now would be other.
She tolerated the torment of
inhuman hunger and grief, as
she was too young to know
of a people punishing children.
Her heart fluttered and fitted as
the sun rose to its heights, and
as death came to claim her.
Her sister watched wearily
she’d tried to eat weeds,
and her writhing bloated
belly freed her spirit from pain,
unnoticed, like a petal of
blossom, floating gently back
to mother earth, snatched from
a frost bitten, bewildered tree.
No milk soft mother, foraging
father or big, brave brothers,
they died weeks ago when
the army came and hell broke out.
They lay together rotting, forgotten
by a world, wise in covid19,
but deaf to a child’s choked off
cry for crumbs from the rich man’s table.