After dinner we walk around the lake
outside our home
letting the air scrub us
dropping stale bread off the dock
watching the ducklings learn
to be greedy.
At the beach we stop
to look at the mountains
they’re so perfect
the kind of painting
I would never buy.
The path winds past the new community centre
a colossal tribute to glass and wood
and suddenly I see it all as a refugee must see it
willow trees sashaying in the wind
our little family out for a walk
that we are safe
and this imposing building
how can something so magnificent be free
as though the king himself
gave his palace to the people
the time has come
to be kind.