Woke up — perhaps I dreamed this?
I found myself outside at daybreak
in a village I did not know.

I asked a woman I met
carrying her daily water back
from a fountain,

tell me: who is shooting at us
from the hills above this village?
I know I heard the guns.

Before the shooting gets much closer;
before you have to drop your water;
before they spill your blood

let me take you by the hand.
You could flee this angry land
and go to where there are no guns.

Do you know this place, she asked?
Can you name it, offer a map?
I will go there myself when I am able.

Just tell me
where it is — 
and then I woke up

having said nothing
of such a place
to her.

Perhaps I dreamed the name too?
Perhaps I never knew. Perhaps
there is no place like that. 

It seems that I’ve had
this dream before,
and more than once.

It may be
that I have forever offered
such false hope.