if rabbits had hands

the children of aleppo
are eating grass
handfuls of grass
which they ply from the ground
with little hands
their eyes dart as they feed
like small meticulous rabbits
if rabbits had hands
they have learned how to pretend
they do not hear the distant booming
of barrel bombs
and have trained themselves
to hear the sound of sunshine
on broken glass
the brave sound of raindrops
on asphalt
the sound of trucks moving around
in the night
which is the sound of maybe
the dream of bread
the children of aleppo
still play
you can see them in photographs
on their Big Wheels
and scooters and holding their dolls
and stuffed lions and dogs
one doll had bandages
on its arm
another was missing a leg