I am far away now
from everything familiar
It’s after sundown, dark
The air smells of smoke
heavy from bamboo smouldering
Crickets are singing, or katydids
And something else
A woman’s voice rising out of the darkness
Over there near the fields
we rode bicycles past today
The melody is in a minor key but
I don’t understand the language
Perhaps it’s a lullaby
I am lying here in this hammock
a young attendant just brought by and hung for me
It’s in that army camouflage pattern
In the courtyard, I saw samples of bombs
grenades and land mines recovered from the landscape here
I am looking at my familiar from a distance
From another angle
This location in the world
I am reading Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale
I read it before, a long time ago
It seemed like brilliant fantasy work then
Science Fiction, a Fantastic Tale
It doesn’t seem like fantasy now, this time
I’ve felt the breath of Possibility.
Have I changed so?
Or has the World changed?
Maybe I have been sleeping
Maybe I’m just waking up.