Refugee
A lone refugee
my great grandmother was
borne across the roiling seas to
relatives on streets peopled by pushcarts
possessions spilling with no place
I fled to leased marbled grandeur
displaced guiltily into buffeted breakfasts
by an angry sea too lightly regarded
Home as visitor spectator assessor
amid displaced possessions
pushcarted onto an unpeopled street
I stand
A lone refugee
Oh, Pearl, such a powerful and thought-provoking poem. How things turn in life...
ReplyDeleteHope that the recent disaster will be overcome soon!
Hugs, Mari