The Faith of Starvelings

by Lori Williams

We are out of bread, soup and tea now.
My little sparrows, perched on tenuous
twigs, still hope. Their faces bloom
with too many bones, and eyes implore

what is a mother for
but to turn a potato
into a pearl?

My fingers plait smooth hot salt
and the teaspoon of honey melts in a song.
Two figs and a promise with each sip;
mama shall walk on water
tomorrow.