(Nafas kashidan, rasidan.) Breathe. Breathe!
It’s getting better already.
Better every day.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
Two years already.
Whole. Breathe. Afghanistan. In.
He and I.
And he misses his family.
Of course he does. Certainly.
His laughter is quiet, like grandmother’s when she tells of her youth in the camp.
“What can you do.”
How it was then.
But then is now.