After misspellings and formatting errors
only half the certificates ended up
on good card stock, scrawled with vineyard
rows of Pashtu: military rank, and names
and fathers’ names.
But after the ceremony,
photographs, and handshakes and hands
held to the heart, and blessings
they only asked if I would please
make new diplomas in English.
English, they said, is official.
The Pashtu lovely, but no one believes it.