Day 586

Give me your hand, that I may lead you
to where we might find water.
I know you are weak.  I know
you are blind now — your eyes
destroyed by shrapnel.  Give me
your hand, trust me, I know
there was a family who had
clear water, I know they will share it
with us if we go to them.  Once
we sat beside each other at school.
Once we whispered to each other
about our friends, our teachers.
Once we sat for hours and studied
together, questioned each other
before the exams, encouraged each other.
Once we dreamed of being doctors together.
Once we dreamed of raising children
who would be friends with each other
as we’ve been.  Now you
can barely walk, and I have to hold
your arm so you can walk with me.
We go slowly — we, who would race each other
to the steps of the school!  Yet
we’re both still alive, and that’s
something.  I will live my life
(as long as I have it) for both
of us.  I will do all the things
we dreamed of, and tell you
about them day after day.  For today,
we are walking to get water.  Give me
your hand.  Walk with me.