Little Girl sleeps,
Curled up in her bed.
Her dirty black curls fanning out on her pillow,
Falling across her face.
Brown eyes shut to the cruelty of the world.
A world that has taken everything from her.
A mother’s gentle caress,
A father’s guiding hand,
Big Brother’s lopsided grin.
And yet she dimples when she smiles,
And when she laughs it is as if a million wind chimes are dancing in the breeze,
And when she dreams…
She dreams of rainbows.

Little Girl is tired,
Her eyes falling shut under the weight of her lids.
She clutches the hand of her grandmother,
Holding onto is with all of her might.
As if at any moment it would slip, fluid from her fingers,
Leaving her alone to face the gathering darkness.
But then her Grandmother leans down,
Her skirts rustling like a long forgotten song.
She whispers, her breath hot against Little Girl’s ear,
“Just imagine.”
Her voice is afraid and strained with tension,
But her face,
Pulled apart by worry,
Creased with endless wrinkles,
Somehow looks sincere.
“Imagine it all away.”
Little Girl smiles softly,
And closes her sleep dulled eyes.
And suddenly the bombs become fireworks,
Each boom nothing more then a celebration.
And the screams are shouts of joy.
Excitement, like swing sets and rollercoaster.
And when that is finished,
The noise finally dying down…
Little Girl dreams of rainbows.

And when the sun finally comes around,
Little Girl scurries from her hiding place.
Twirling through the streets,
Floating through space like an American ballerina,
Stirring up the dust motes lingering in the air.
Then she turns her face towards the sky,
Her breath catching at the sight of the blue.
And for one second,
Arms thrown to the sky,
Destruction and Death pushed away to an arms length...
Little Girl can see the rainbows.

Then the sirens start again.