Day 639

There’s no formula
to feed her baby
in all of Gaza, and starvation
has dried her breasts.  She holds him
in her arms, waits
for the liquid from a can of lentils
to boil on the fire she’s made
from sticks and paper.  She knows
he needs more, and she knows
this is all she can give him.
Everyone in the neighboring tents
is saving the liquid for her
from their cans: cans of beans,
more lentils, expired cans of anything
they can get.  She boils
the liquid. All her son
has known of this world
is hunger and explosions.
At least, she thinks, she can feed him
something.  At least, for an hour
or two, he might sleep, his body
aching a little less.