The scents of a melting pot on the eve of good news
Came through doors opening
As I handed out books to those who had none
Little eyes beaming, older eyes grateful
Some heads covered, some dotted foreheads
A rainbow of garments and fleshtones
Curry and peppers and onion drifted past their smiles
Assaulting my masked nose, making my mouth water
I heard the laughter and playful screams of children
Saw mothers watching from the doorsteps
Beaten-up bikes piled, unlocked, at metal posts by my car
My name was called; I stopped, turned to see a child breathless, smiling
Followed by a half dozen more
You're not at school! Why are you here? Where do you live?
Can you see my apartment? There, with the open window!
Such pride and joy in his voice
The next morning, my own child on the phone--
Have you heard the news? They called the election!
There is hope. There is hope. There is hope.
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