Day 1,018

The child is paralyzed
who had been standing
in front of her tent. A bullet
to her neck, precisely
in a place where it can’t be
removed; lodged there
to do its nerve-deadening work
every minute of every day
for the rest of her life.
One bullet the length
of a finger. One bullet
fired by a soldier
five or six years older
than this girl, who grew up
playing video games. Targeting
what he wanted to target.
Practicing. Getting his aim
just right. Never mind
that this time it was a girl
who loved running. Loved
swimming. Loved
doing cartwheels. Loved walking
out to the sea, standing there
feeling small waves
come in from a place
beyond the horizon. A place
where things might
be different.