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.

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