Burmese Lesson

In Mandalay my guesthouse hostess

Alice, served sweet milk tea in little glass cups.

“I was an English Professor at University

before they were all shut down.”

I mentioned Aung San Suu Kyi,

Letters from Burma, her eyes darted to the gate,

the song of street vendors wailed outside

her ivy-walled courtyard.

“They listen, the moles,

they know foreigners stay here-

take care with your words.”

Later, a midnight interrogation,

Alice’s high-pitched voice in defense.

Burmese I didn’t understand yet knew

I must hide the book behind

the filter of the air conditioner

while I waited for a knock on the door.