Middle

An Occurrence on French Street in Wilmington

Dotting the vista of brick -

The branding islands of green

Canvas awnings claiming our street

And I a camera stand

Upon the middle snapping

A memory of freedom

A street in America

That my taxes helped to pave

All framed neatly in my lens

When a tap, tap, tap, taping

Interrupts my snap-snapping.

Behind me a uniform

Badge reading security

Questions my citizenry

"What am I doing? For  whom?

Am I a tourist in town

Taking pictures of this street?"

For my daughter in Iraq,

A soldier far from her home.

I made no explanation

Silent here in the middle

Pondering on a riddle.

Why is it my prodigy

Is asked to risk her hide

To carry America’s

Version of democracy

To a land in the middle

Of disarray and terror

If we can’t walk without fear

Of the Patriotic Act

Trumping the Constitution?

Is the guardian in our midst

Truly our new terrorist?

Still I snap my photograph,

He talks to his radio.

I wander to the corner.

   Blocks away flash police lights

And in a courtyard on King

Stands a bold shining statue.

Words in metal for all to gaze.

The title across the top

Plainly says Our Bill of Rights.

I take no picture here lest

I invite my own arrest

And walk instead into uncertainty.