there has been a raid

and the women squat their loins into the
sand between anthills and pick through the
immaculate bones of the dead

one   then another gleaming buttress is
hefted in bronzed fingers   
   touched by tawny lips and tossed away

until a muted grunt from the elder
discloses that she has found her
husband

the daughter follows her   listlessly
swatting at flies with a rib