Day 6

The air is cold,

My breath looks back at me.

Death on the side of our journey.

We continue.

My mother is gone.

Beneath the white water is sleeping.

When will we arrive?

I wonder.

Many stayed and some continue.

Some people changed,

Eyes, skin, and hair.

We are different yet one tribe.

We continue.

New places and different foods.

I continue to on.

I am not HOME.