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dust

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America 5

dust December 4, 2017 0 Comments

I am out walking
when America, in black
hijab and aba

down to her Nikes,
slams her board down on the street,
jumps on and takes off

past the boys in black
fedoras and silk coats down
to shined black shoes, who

walk, talking Yiddish.
Their curling black sidelocks fall
down over their cheeks.

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CategoriesAmerica, poems, poetry, politics, religion, worlds
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America 4
December 4, 2017
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America 6
December 7, 2017

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