Born Into One Body
       

Isn't it odd how we're born
in one country
and not another,
could have been any other color
instead of what we are?

We might speak Parsi
and send our dead
to the place of birds.

Strange that we work
at desks in cool rooms
not making clothes
in factories, sweltering,
being slapped or called Donkey or Dog.

What if we suddenly
changed into another,
disappeared into a labyrinthine souk,
wearing shorts and
a baseball cap, emerging
as a man in a djellaba or a woman
with red embroidery of henna on her hands?

We'd sit in the shade
of a palm tree, feed dates
to a child never seen before
but surely she is ours.

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Copyright © 2022 Margaret Hasse All rights reserved
from Summoned
Nodin Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission