Day 1,070

They are holding a funeral
for children who were murdered
long ago, near the start
of the genocide. For some
who were murdered later.
Children not found, not dug up
from the rubble, not buried.
Children whose bodies
were scattered in pieces.
Children whose beds
had become their graves.
Children whose graves
were in more than one place,
whose arms were buried
far from their legs. Their feet.
Children whose names
those who loved them
speak every day. Children
who did not get to learn
multiplication, division.
Children whose deaths
were not acknowledged
because their families
were murdered with them.
Because their families
were fleeing, displaced
again and again. Because
there were too many deaths
and too much hunger
and too much sickness
and too much fear.
for the children
and for their own lives,
though it seems
they are still counted
among the living.