By: SoulProbe7~

Maroon, yellow and green tassels dangle
From taxi cab windows
Horses draped with the same
While pulling carts down cobble stone streets
Fruits of native places perfume the bazaar
As I carry an ikepuchutt bag in my small hands
Women dressed in long black robes
Their hair covered with black scarfs
Some only revealing their eyes
Would walk up to me, all of seven
Pinching my cheeks
And hard, as if to see if I was real
They loved my blond hair
And blue eyes
After a while, I would slip
Behind my Mom, hiding from the pinch
One day this dark hair, brown eyes, dark skin
Friend of my brother asked me to walk with him
We walked down the dirt road I lived on
To an old stone wall, he looked around
Saw no one, picked me up
Gently sat me on the stone wall
He could speak English well enough
Face to face, eyes to eyes
He said “I want to ask you something?”
I remembered looking into his eyes, “Okay.”
With a sincere puzzled look on his face
“What is it like to see through blue eyes?”
I thought maybe he meant, as an American
“Huh?” I said, feeling confused
He swept his arm in the air, across the landscape
“Does everything look blue?”
I understood.
“No.” I giggled ” I see the same as you”
He raised me up and off the stone wall
Placed me on the ground and said,
“I wasn’t sure”
page 144
SouL the human experience
Melinda Campbell