how do i fit a city into a suitcase and
how do i fit the feeling of
waking with the sunrise or
not sleeping until the stars blur
how do i fit the scent of a rose
peeking through cracks of concrete,
fragrant plumeria blossoms lining streets,
the comfort of seeing rows of olive trees
little dots on a hill, or
being surrounded by mountains wiser and
older than all who inhabit their foothills
how do i fit a city into a suitcase?
the quiet nods as greetings of friendly hello
when spoken languages don’t match,
the woman selling me fruit calling me
guapa as she warmly hands me my bag of figs
how do i fit the loud companionship of many
as we sip tea in small plastic cups by the sea, or
the quiet companionship of one
as we talk about everything and nothing in a parking lot
how do i fit the wonder of a child
peering from a plane window for the first time, or
the look of an elderly man
peering above the familiar outline of his homeland–
this stranger with a suitcase,
how do i fit all her stories
in a few lines of poetry?


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