i want to live on a street with all my friends 

where we speak the languages we wish we knew instead of english 

we peek our heads out of the window to say hello

hensci! ^ًمرحبا !ⵣⵓⵍ! maaha! ayo! 안녕하세용! 

வணக்கம்! درود !pialli! xin chào! 

even the birds, bugs and bushes sing their greetings 

our friends carry many faces 

‍

sometimes we follow the sound of music to someone’s doorstep 

bongos bang, hands clap and pots clang together 

in an unusual and infectious melody 

a group kicks a ball back and forth 

another gossips over knitting needles 

some sink their teeth into a fresh catch 

blessed and broiled over a flame 

and others romp and stomp and wave and sway to the rhythm 

someone falls and scrapes their knee 

a friend nearby grabs an áloe leaf from their garden 

we’re all healers here 

‍

inside, a couple giggles in bed over baby names 

they wonder what neighbors the child will grow close to 

what skills and trades will they learn to love? 

next door, a family argues over chores 

Nkemi’s tired of harvesting herbs 

Zuhra wonders who will make meals for the week 

compromise comes, eventually. they know it always does 

‍

thunder roils in the distance, promising rain we’ve prayed for 

a few take shelter, more come to wait in the wind 

as grey-black clouds cover the ground 

once the waters pour 

we dance with the leaves and the trees and 

the feeling of the heavens kissing our skin and 

the soil hugging our soles and 

we twist and twirl until our bodies grow tired and 

with a sigh, we find our ways home 

“yours or mine” has little meaning 

yours and mine is all the same 

here, we live to share 

here, we share to live