Nights Are Another Country
in my house. Days we’re ordinary,
affectionate, a close,
happy couple, but nights
require a passport and serious
immunizations, warnings about
security and guerilla attacks.
You are a foreign ruler,
quite possibly benevolent
in intention – but we know how
these things always play out,
don’t we? – with needs alien
to and hostile to your citizenry,
me, without power
except to say, “No more,”
and hope to survive
the fallout from the battles
in the streets. Days, we’re
the peaceful, devoted
pair all our friends envy.
Nights are always tense
around the DMZ that is our bed
with occasional forays into the bush
where the enemy is always lying
in wait. Sleep is hard, fearful
and troubled. I dream us
going down in flames.
Copyright Credit: Linda Rodriguez, "Nights Are Another Country" from Heart’s Migration. Copyright © 2009 by Linda Rodriguez. Reprinted by permission of Tia Chucha Press.