In our world
information expands exponentially
like a dazzle of zebras
galloping at you.

In theirs the information
is manageable, laughable.
They only know enough
to work, pray, eat,
and avoid the bodies.

They can balance a water jug
on almost every part of the body.
They do not get anxious as children
Totter footfall over footfall
on the dirt roads. They are explorers.

We will never know the smell
of hot gunfire, or feel,
among the sweat,
the silence punctuated
by dopplering bombs.

But it’s in our lives too,
neatly tucked away
in a textbook somewhere,
or touching a poem
that you once loved.