I. A Holiday from War
Back from his six-month deployment,
just the two of us in a little hut in the fields.
roasting wild chickens and corns
on the red coals.
Then it was a time for fairy tales.
He enters a convenience store,
looks at the prices of snacks and drinks,
thinks of his children--their school costs,
their bride prices and dowries, his own funeral.
He exits without buying,
Looking through old photos,
I am already older than him.
Yet I'll always be