Immigrant Woman ……………….– by Mark Nielsen ; 8/26-30/14
I see you walking, weary,
groceries in both hands,
yet somehow waving for a bus;
wearing a hijab or babushka,
wondering, watching the sky,
waiting for a sign that your wandering,
and your bone-bending work,
will soon end.
I do not know why you came here
to my nasty, brutish city.
But it must have been worse
wherever you were before.
Walk on, sweet aunties of the world,
unrelated daughters of my immigrant grandmother.
Take a peach from your own bag.
Rest when you can.
And finally, when you get home
(many hours and years from now),
watch the world come to your doorstep.
Do not turn us away.
We once were ungrateful
and did not welcome you.
But we will be hungry
and in need of your love, soon enough.