i know why the children keep coming and we keep going.
a boy found me hilarious and too small for my clothes and
posted me a letter with four pointers why i am funny.
a clever one smirked at my green polish and little gorbachev and i
exchanged backstroke tips and challenged each other down the snow slope.
for five days, no one is angry with anyone, no one gets to be afraid.
and just in that time i forget what i left home with and remember how little i really need. sleep is really just a dark hut under a porous blanket but it is safe and happy
with our lights and memories of sung songs in the day.
i am terrible at saying goodbyes to children and so i dreaded every part at the bus.
they looked happy through the windows but were also very worn.
we sat around later in a very awkward fashion, possibly feeling
a little lost and displaced.
we discussed maybe it was the strange feeling of going home to be cared for now and i figured i dont really know how to be cared for.
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