Tsering Wangmo Dhompa

A geography of belonging

Adhering to mindfulness we say nothing.
Mother ate meat. Mother watched spiders
encamp in her domain. Nothing is not what
it seems. We take the animal we are to eat
seriously. After all, a death is involved.
The seven days of our week parted from each
other like warring cousins. In the family tree,
the names of women are missing. In the family
tree the low branches served well as clothesline
and weapon. Once a week we question whether our 
country will be free. We are not warriors. We know 
a working bowel is proof of a healthy life. We know 
people who do not speak our dialect are sitting
at a table. With pen and paper they will map our future.