From Philadelphia to Paris

The mountain seemed to breathe-
growing larger yet fading away
as I walked closer, an incongruity
as my steps made the ground shake
deep inside me.

I remember walking 3,000 miles away
as a young girl, surprised that the hills
looked the same but with older churches,
and the beef was not that different but
there were naked women on the beach.

I was drawn to an artists’ corner
but not the art so much as the hands
creating it amid the traffic and gawkers
and it may have been how they ignored
everyone around them that inspired me.

I had no concept as I flew over an ocean
how my life would bend to and fro
along a dirt road but I remember watching
people’s reactions just as I do now,
from fear to curiosity and back again.

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