the gate, we'll find the way but hurry, do. The path is hidden but there all the same— the leaves will disguise it again when we've passed. Follow the children, they'll know the way; their feet will always find the smoothest stones. Run with me. This way is safer & farther away from the noise, from what chases us. It's always there, so start running. Your belly is not yet a bomb. Your belly does not hide a bomb. You fly up & over the gate. You brush the last leaves on the bough & they fall off, disguising our path. There is a child running ahead of us. She seems to know the way but hesitates & turns to look at me. Do you know the way? she asks, & you bundle her up in your skirts & we run. Your belly is not a bomb. Your belly does not hide a bomb.