There are people in my neighborhood who look different than I do,
of course
They are smaller -sometimes -rounder -sometimes -louder -sometimes -nicer
by choice?
When I Wander-bye briefly greeting my neighbors with sometimes smiles,
with expressions owned
I wonder whether we share experiences through expressions,
or whether we hide them, bind them, blind them?
It takes time to know my neighbors.
They are so active, so busy, and so different,
I wonder what I could share with them?
Do they like spices of India, Mexico, China, or plain?
If I knew, if I could know, then I could keep compliments available
or,
we could disregard differences -deception -deciding instead to enjoy the tastes of one another
but that would feel strange.
Doesn't it seem odd that change causes alarm, even as we live bound by similar lifestyles?
Doesn't it cause alarm that it seems odd to change, living within boundaries of economies?
In my neighborhood,
we all pay the same for rent, food, and life-means.
My neighbor closest, pale white devil, bothers me from time to time.
He, I think, is the exception to my neighborhood life
because he works less, owns more, and is gone most often.
Next neighbor nice, lively as always,
comes from a smaller land than mine, though she smiles all the same
because her family lives comfortably, peacefully, and collaboratively.
Final neighbor frown, sometimes grouchy,
is Islander isolated, I believe she has lost something dear
because she secludes herself, quietly keeping shades drawn near.
How I fit in -I know not. Neighbors, one and all, smile when I pass
-excepting, of course, pale white devil, who smiles for no one-
But my neighbors never share, and this to no avail, and here I ere do fail
On my block,
bounds break briefly between smiles,
and though we are all different, and though I wish we could all change
I admire my neighbors nice-ties, and calmly wander-by.
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