My daughter asks about god
while I make the grocery list
and try not to rip it apart
when there is a starving child
on the screen in my pocket.
I do not know why
bad things happen
but I do not think apples
have anything to do with it.
She isn’t asking about
bad things anyway –
she wants to know
where god lives.
So do I. At the store
I pick out galas
that I will slice as thin
as crescent moons
she can sink her teeth into.
How many slivers of the moon
would it take to feed a country?
The other night, we held hands
up to the sky and almost grasped it.
She believes we could
if we keep trying.
On the back of the list,
my child has drawn a map.