On Passing 9/11 in the Middle East

The alert from the Embassy notes to use caution

Heightened Alert Status they call it

And somehow I feel safer here than I might at home 

The Middle Easterners whom I know,

And  whose paths I cross, are not a threat

At worst a recoiling (as when forced to stand too close in an elevator)

Typically an indifference (no eye contact)

Often casual conversation (about the hot weather)

Sometimes real relating conversation (rarely, but some treasured sometimes)

Only occasionally a mean taxi driver from Afghanistan or thereabouts

But mostly the drivers are friendly once I show my friendly cards in hand 

I do not like living here

It is not home

It is a sentence that needs an ending.

It is sometimes anxiety, sometimes frustration

Often surreal

An opportunity.  A blessing if I look hard enough. 

I know I have not done enough personally to heal the wound

Only the little things to indicate there is not hate

There are only people: me and them

Side by side

Peacefully

Hopefully enough