Day 562

Here is an x-ray of this child’s hand:
see below the knuckles
something that looks
like an inverted rocket, like a toy 
rocket a child might make
from paper and rubber bands, 
to launch with a friend
outside the house.  But this
is no toy.  This
is a bullet, launched
by a sniper who fixed the child
in his crosshairs, who targeted
this hand.  Hand intended
to hold a pen, a paintbrush,
a ball, a whittling knife.  Hand
intended to hold another’s hand,
to hold an infant, a spoon, a steering wheel,
a phone, a doorknob. And even 
if the bullet can be removed,
what will heal this child
of the memory of pain, what
will blur for him 
the thin dividing line 
between childhood
and a different awareness?