This War of Ours

We walked thirteen miles down the slopes, down the pouring rain, down and away from the city. We walked thirteen miles with our home on our backs. We walked thirteen miles holding my little sister's hand, her eyes wide open in terror. We walked thirteen miles listening to the air sirens screeching behind us. We walked thirteen miles wondering if we would make it with just two eggs and a sandwich packed hastily the morning of. We walked thirteen miles and saw the sullen faces of our neighbors staring ahead but also seemingly nowhere. We walked thirteen miles and heard the explosion.

We walked thirteen miles.

How many more will it take before the sky no longer grieves our losses?