Strangers

In a strange land
the sky was not my own
I wandered
through the streets alone
and no one looked like me

In a strange land
the food was not
what I had grown;
table for one, I dined
a million miles from home

In a strange land
the words did not roll
off my tongue,
child-like I pointed to
what I wanted
and smiled in thanks
that still my needs were met

In my homeland
I bumped into myself
and met a stranger;
it took a while
to see I was my friend.

© Tanya Southey
#52words52weeks