Fatherland

Whether it’s something or someone
I’m waiting for you ask
with a lip that trembles
for reasons I don’t know.

We’re sitting on a hill
overlooking a city
where no one dares to believe anymore.

You tell me stories
about a homeland
that no longer exists  
in your mother’s language.

Around us, the night falls
silently into place. 

(c) Leen Raats

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