Day 715

You wake to a quiet sky.
For a moment you try to remember
your world as it was
before: your mother
alive, your small brothers
whispering to each other
in their beds. A breeze from the sea
moves the sides of the tent
back and forth; if you close
your eyes, you can try to pretend
it’s your sisters’ breathing, still
asleep. You try to recall
how your days would unfold:
how your friends would meet you
at your door, how you’d walk with them
to school, sharing secrets, anxious
about exams. You feel the hard ground
beneath you, try to remember
cool sheets, softness
of pillows. Now, in the distance, explosions.
The sky flashes light, not from the sun.
You try not to count your dead.