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