{30 October 2016}


This morning, we lit candles as prayers.

We could have begun a small bonfire
There on the cold concrete floor of the
Tiny chapel.

We could have warmed our
Shaky hands by the open flame,
Happily breathing the smoke.

We could have started a forest fire
With praises, petitions, pleas,
What have you.

Instead we
Lit the small candles,
Let our tears fall, hoping beyond hope
That our fire would not die.


Tonight, I go to sleep to Divali fireworks booming,
Reminiscent of the past – years of
Baseball games and fuzzy fireworks over the scoreboard.

I lay shrouded in a mosquito net, an
Experience only for my East Africa self,
The sound of wind in the gauzy cloth.

Flat on my stomach, I can’t help but feel
My heart beat, the blood pumping
Deep in my chest.

My cat crawls, then settles, on my legs,
If I close my eyes,
He could be any cat.

Tonight, I think of the questions,
The prayers, the nuances, and it is
Forever until I remember to sleep.


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