the babies didn't cry that night

though the wind was cold

and whipped through the woods where they were huddled

though the wind was cold

and flickered the torches of the men searching

a young father knew cold nights

when his baby would cry as he walked

in front of a fire that flickered in the hearth

"Put the babies to breast." he whispered

to the women crouched behind him

they put their babies to breast

so the babies wouldn't cry that night

a boy of three crouched below his mother

his brother above him suckled and warm

he was cold and wanted to ask his mother

why the men searching with torches and guns

were in their houses

while they crouched in silence behind their fathers

who watched and shivered in the cold wind

that whipped about them in the woods

And the babies full with milk

fell asleep on their mother's breast

as the men with torches

tired of their searching

and turned and walked back down the road

their torches disappeared

flickering in the cold wind

that whipped through the woods that night