The Expat wife
She’s the accompaniment—
The spicy, sweet, tangy dip
The wasabi, the hummus, the chutney
The seemingly inconspicuous, bite-sized portion
The one that transforms the plat du jour
From delectable to exquisite.

I wish I were a boat
I am a kite
Floating upwards- farther, and farther away
Toward the Kármán line.

I can see the earth below, and the people I know
They grow smaller and smaller
Until the world looks like the sky and the people, stars.

I wish to land
But, I don’t know how- there’s no cord
to pull me down.

I wish I were a boat instead
I wouldn’t mind being slapped by the waters
or hurled by the waves; at least then, I’d be anchored.

Between homes
I’m in a limbo
Propelled upwards; between land and sky;
There’s not enough wind to help me fly.
I see the home I left
And I feel bereft.

I’m not an explorer
in search of a spark to ignite my soul
Nor am I an immigrant looking for another man’s soil
to crystallize my dreams; I am a shadow
I follow

Over hill
and plain, and rough terrain
Across the prickly forest and shimmery lake
for family, for duty and for love’s sake
From where I sit, I see a bird fly

Its wings spread
Its head in line with its feathered tail
It gently turns, glides; I see it sail
A tiny speck in the sky
It makes me wonder

If it’s looking for food;
if it’s a leader or a follower,
a lover or a partner
And, perhaps, like me,
it too is between homes.