henna flowers
cover her fingers to the tips;
brown & red climbing cinnamon skin
as she sorts clothes;
darks in the machine next to mine;
lights one machine over
i gasp at the patterns
on her hands & she tells me about eid,
her husband still in addis ababa;
here 2 months & we meet
not across a desk, or in line at the store;
but level, because i see her difference
& call it beautiful
i abandon my magazine
to share her story, barely 17
& half the globe away from home
in america, surrounded by
this too much of everything
she is in school now
& mumbles as if this is something
to be ashamed of, or is it
me misreading backwards body language:
eyes down while listening
& looking up only
while she paints her words
intricate as that mehndi
staining her hands
***for Aamina, whom I met in a laundromat ages ago.
Susan Daniels Poetry 
I love the way you catch these moments!
Thanks, Jules. This was taken from a journal entry from about 1998. Had to dig it out, as the poems about child marriage reminded me I had jotted down meeting this young woman.
I have a big pile of old journals and stuff waiting for me to sort out so I hope I find something this good!
Hey–you will! Had to go into the last box int he closet for this one 😉
ha!
One of these days, my pen is going to incriminate me permanently.
Well done!!!
THanks, Boomie. Interesting how something written one day triggers a memory for the next thing written. Glad I remembered her.
Wonderful – I was with you and your laundry, staring at the finger flowers 🙂
Thank you, Shah. Her hands were so beautiful. I had never seen that before, in Buffalo, in 1998. Really glad you liked this.
Absolutely gorgeous…the first three lines grabbed me but the poem never let me go. Loved it beginning to end and really liked the circular format ending again with the image of her hands.
Anna, thank you! So long ago, and yet the image stuck with me. Glad you liked!
This is so beautiful… I love how you explained the art of the person you see.
Thanks so much, Danielle. Appreciate the comment.
Susan, you capture a single moment in time so well. I could really envision the young woman you describe, and the gorgeous henna tattooing on her hands. I love the bit “we meet…level, because I see her difference.” Just lovely. 😀
Oh, Lena, thank you! Really appreciate the comment. She really made an impression.
Just before her daughter was born, my daughter had her belly painted with henna in a lotus, life-giving design. Your poem captures so much of beauty, personality, culture shock and hope. Well done!
Oh, thank you, Beth. Aamina was certainly a remarkable young woman.
That she was in school, big like. That she averted her eyes, I know the experience all too well.
I agree, but sometimes the body language is different. A little disconcerting and difficult to read.
Beautiful .. just like mehandi patterns are .. I love that for all festivals !
Oh, thank you. This was the first time I saw it, and WOW. Just lovely.
This is beautiful and vivid.
Thanks you. She was both.