Tanks have crossed the border,

I read while I wait for my coffee.

Oh, after so much Covid, this is life,

waiting in line for someone else to brew you a nice cup of Italian coffee.

 

Another notification.

War in places I cannot pronounce.

Of borders I can’t place on a map.

And a newsletter, discount on shoes.

Maybe I need new ones, good, resistant,

for my daily battle at the office.

 

I read the news quickly to have something to say

in case my colleagues bring it up.

Oh but those shoes.

And another newsletter.

Low prices in all winter clothing.

 

I take the subway while drinking my coffee.

I forget the news and listen to a podcast.

 

News of wars somewhere not that far away,

if I cared about geography.

But  I have a job, I can take the subway

and buy coffee to take a way.

I can walk in the shoes I already have

and enjoy the free air in my own town.

 

I read about wars I don’t understand.

 

I don’t feel frighten.

I’ve forgotten the wars on my side of the border.

The lack of freedom choking…

The sounds of guns and bombs

even when there is silence.

The colors of the war

creating an artificial nightly sunset.

 

The not knowing.