He was just a boy.

Father asks…

Q: Do you know how people become dried bodies, stretched and burnt?

We are sitting on the floor, in a sooted kitchen.

Breathing from fragile lungs.

Worn with marathons and our endless sprints.

A: When you steal. When your crime is hunger.Β 

We remember the incident at the market.

The angry fires, heavy tires.

The lone cry mingled with darkly smokes.

He was just a boy.

Q: Do you know how to cry?

We are lying under covers of warmth now.

The raiding bullets outside complete our silence.

A: Sleep on a Map, trace the outlines and spell the name of your country.

Q: Do you know how to lie?

We are desperate for a distant promise.

A beautiful miracle.

Our mouths are sore from hungry days.

A: Say to the beggar on the street, “It is well”

Q: Do you know how to pray?

We love the Bible stories; Solomon and the saintly Joseph.

We giggle under the moon light about Jonah and his fish.

A: Say to fear, not today. Say to the earth, I am King.

Q: Do you know how to die?

We are a little grown now, weathered by disappointments and aches.

A: Never write. Never love.

Join the discussion