Sitting in the sun

Sitting in the sun

I said I’ll sit in the sun to the lady,

she said ok, the lady who takes our

names before dance, it’s the small

things like a moment of sun and

a few hours of sleep, we have to seize

and she says she agrees and smiles

and I lean against the cream-colored

stucco, slide my back down, tilt

my head to the sun, momentarily free

from clouds, perfectly positioned

to shine on me, at this moment

everything is ok, whatever ok means,

I have lost any sense of strong and

weak, even words like resilience or dare

I say, happiness, slip through

my feet, the feet that now that know

the way downstairs to the miklat

across the street in their sleep, I

only know now this moment and

heat on my face and the slowness

of breath and the sounds of

birds, who dare, who still dare

to sing.