Day 578

Who is your mother, small girl
wandering in the dust, your head
bleeding, arm bleeding, tired
and gaunt and dazed. Who
is your father?  What’s
your name?  Do you
know your name? Where
did you start
walking from?  And for how long?
When was the last time you ate?
Drank water that wasn’t
contaminated?  How
can we help you? How
old are you?  Two and a half?
Three?  Can you tell us
something about where
you were living? Will you
let us help you? Let us
clean the blood
from your cheek, your
tangled hair?  Let us tie
these old clothes as a tourniquet
around your arm, to stop it
bleeding? Is there a bullet
lodged in it?  Can we take you
to a hospital?  Look
for your parents?  Try
and find you something
you could eat?