Poetry About Deportation

An officer says there is room for one suitcase. A father folds twenty years into shirts. His daughter writes her number inside his palm. The bus waits under fluorescent morning. Law may draw a border through a family. Love keeps crossing after the gate is closed.

Begin where certainty starts to thin. A father folds twenty years into shirts. The ordinary carries a hidden pressure. The bus waits under fluorescent morning. We stay until the deeper pattern appears. Love keeps crossing after the gate is closed.

An officer says there is room for one suitcase. Hours pass, but the image does not leave. His daughter writes her number inside his palm. It returns us to forced removal, borders, family separation, belonging, law, memory, and the human cost of policy. Law may draw a border through a family. The day continues with a more attentive heart.