Day 1,074

They are bending
over the body
of the child
who was murdered.
Little body
shrouded in white.
Last night
she was still alive.
she was singing a song
she’d learned
on her first day
of school. Singing it
for the grownups.
Making them smile.
Making them happy,
if just for a moment.
Now those who loved her
kneel and grieve.
Now they are kissing
her forehead, her pale
cheeks. Now
they are touching
her cold hands.
They are trying
to say goodbye
and they cannot. They
are trying to let her know
how deeply they loved her
and their words
collapse into sobs
and their throats
go dry.