We knew they were coming,
the unwelcome guests we had tried
hard to avoid.
Father was too sick to fight them off,
but Mother distracted them
with rubies and diamonds,
even her gold wedding band.
They were content for a time,
but now they are back.
Father is still ill,
and now Mother’s treasure box is almost empty.
Hunger has made itself at home.
Moved in and filled our bellies.
Emptied our minds of reason.
We can barely form a complete thought between us.
But Henry rallies.
He finds a hole,
an eye just big enough for a thin needle of a boy
to pass through.
We wait for nightfall,
then spool me into my father’s black coat
with big pockets.
“They shoot smugglers,” Henry warns,
but I’m not afraid.
Guided by moonlight,
I thread my way through
the forest to Janek’s farm.
Something moves in the darkness.
Wolves?
I sew myself into the night
until we are seamless
and hold my breath.
A rabbit flashes by,
doing what I cannot.
Running for its life.
Shining in the moonlight.