Day 953

It was never a question
of permanence, the sheets
of plastic they taped together
and called a tent.  It was never
anything they thought
would need to last, would need
to serve them through winters
and summers, through deaths
and births, for more
than a little while
until the real tents
were delivered.  Until materials
were brought in past the borders
and the strong older kids
could begin rebuilding
their house.  Until
medications were let in
and their father could stop
having seizures, their grandfather’s
heart beat rhythmically
again.  Until baby formula
was allowed in
and their mother could feed
the youngest, who seemed
to be growing weaker
from hour to hour.  It
was never a situation
they thought they would need
to endure for so many months.
For so many days they lost count.