Today's poem is by Elina Katrin

We Meet Again, U.S. Customs and Border Protection
       

kilometers of border security lines        remind me I don't get

to call this country my home         my America        because there is no I

in the America of a non-citizen         you see

the pronouns easily change depending        on your nationality        all

that I thought was mine turned yours        all that was ours—theirs

and I can't make our how did I let myself be naive        enough

to think that the soil I worked on         the worlds I built         would eventually

claim me         and again        I surrender

my foreign passport        for stamping         all the bounds of me reduced

to a single document        and watch just another officer struggle

to find my right of entry        and hammer down        my inked unbelonging

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Copyright © 2024 Elina Katrin All rights reserved
from If My House Has A Voice
Newfound
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission