Here in the treetops
of an upstairs apartment,
it is early morning.
I am listening to the traffic sounds
and the day’s beginning
in this foreign city.
I pretend that it is a vacation,
but in truth it is the turned page
of our new life.
What I have:
A husband,
A cup of cinnamon tea,
A wall of Bougainvillea,
Lemons by the back fence,
Summer morning overcast,
Boxes calling to be unpacked.
This day and my life
(what of it remains to me)
spreads out before me.
Certain things beg to be done –
Begged by the voice in my head
that insists on security.
Mostly, I will indulge her.
I have had enough
of uncertainty and upheaval.
Each step brings me closer
to a particular relief,
a settling.
May it be a settling down
and not a settling for.
May this foreign city
be hospitable.
May it become home.
Ashe'
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