The People’s Poetry

16 March, 2013


 


 

The Transplant

by Sara Ibrahim, D.C.


When did this city

fold into the palm of my hand?

When did its lines

become a part of me?

When did I come to know

its faces?

when it sleeps

and when it wakes.

When did I see its beauty clearly?

When did my ears open to hear

a drumbeat

of a transplanted heart called home?





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