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Dual Nationality

You start with a foot in both camps,
eager to act as go-between,
show that we’re really all the same.

Losing heart, you find yourself
explaining to both sides
that you are back where you came from.

Finally, head down, settling for silence,
you’re fired on from both sides
dodging bullets in no-man’s land.

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2020

A last hurray
for Mother’s Day
before confinement.

For Father’s Day
blinking emergence to chinks
of post-lockdown light.

Ann Gibson

If you have any thoughts on these poems,
Ann Gibson would be pleased to hear them.


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