Zawar Shah February 1, 1999
Tags:
Groggy eyes, numb extremities and
a passing through to
a new world.
The air smells are
different
The world noises, a swarm of buzzing strangeness
but not entirely...
I have seen this--parts of this--
in quick short snatches
on MTV and in movies
of the Capitol's dome in the distance
like an inverted top gone haywire.
We used to think it was the White House--
an undeniable presence in so many pictures, postcards--
and so big, so big.
But reality stings harder
than all imaginings of it
or embraces you in its folds, shutting
out all else.
My nerves wake up
to the feel of new ground.
Loneliness has never felt this
immediate, nor fear so subdued.
Immigration stamps my green passport with
a stern-faced welcome to the United States.
My legs carry forth through the sliding doors.
I think I'll make a go of it.
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