Desert Dweller

Your loved one comes home, 
removes mask and body armor,
puts weapons in the gun safe, 
places boots next to the door.

It’s been on the TV news all day,
sound leaking into the kitchen—
headlines
on the screen in the next room.

They hug the kids,
notice the smell of pot roast,
smile at you and ask, 
“What’s for dinner, honey?” 

They worked all day
for a government agency
that killed a poet, a mother,
a US citizen in cold blood.

Do you feel proud and safe
or simply grateful  for the paycheck?

© 2026 Bruno Talerico
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