There are birthday candle shadows
on cheeks flushed red from wine
there is war.

There are end of year reflections
brushed with a breath of hopefulness
there is war.

There are tiny heartbeats inside bellies
growing taut against patterned dresses
there is war.

There are treatment checklists finished
and waking up from afternoon sleeps
there is war.

There is the freezing over
of the neighborhood creek
the cold winter air so thick
you feel its fingers in your throat
there is war
there is war
there is war.

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