My Enemy Sings

My enemy sings lullabies
to his baby, goes for a
walk with his dog, sings
songs in the shower, enjoys
his morning coffee. He may
worship in a different way,
speak a different language,
have something I think I
want, threaten me, yet
he is no stranger, no
non-person. Bomb his home,
kill all he loves, and I
have destroyed a piece of
me. There is no “them,”
there is only “we.”