Fever doesn't care.
She lands, tucks her wings
In and gently kisses
Beads onto the foreheads
Of children and soldiers
Alike.

I rest against a cool
Breeze, hard hat and hammer
On the concrete by my
Feet.
Back wet, muscles and joints
Ache.

I could feel sorry for
Myself, but find comfort in
The thought that somewhere
Out there,
A toddler's mother touches
Sleeping skin with a

Nervous wrist
And whispers
Into the room
Relieved.
*It's gone
Down.