Day 944

What will you do
now that everyone you loved
is gone?  Your small son
was the last to be killed.
Every day in the tent
you’d read to him, sing
to him.  Fend off cold,
hunger, rats.  Hold him
so tightly it seemed
you were always rehearsing
for the moment
that just now happened,
when Death finally
came for him, won
the battle, snatched him
out of your arms,
took him away
to his dark storage cellar.
Now there is no one
for you to protect.
No one to cry out to you
in the night
from fear or hunger,
no one to slip
a small hand into yours.