Day 956

What would it take
to buy this child
a piece of fruit?  An orange,
a plum?  She’s five.  She’s just
come from the hospital,
aching with fever, frightened.
Her mother is carrying her
to their tent.  Weeping
because she has no money
to buy fruit for her daughter.
And if she did, where
would she get it?  It seems
so little, a piece of fruit.
Once they lived near an orchard.
Once they sat under
abundant trees
on quiet, sunny afternoons
eating fallen fruit
and fruit that was low enough
for a small child, held
in her arms, to pluck.