first it was the former Yugoslavians
like Marko running with his family
to Canada
bullets ripping through his house
right over the dinner table
then Somalian teens
who'd never been to school
seeped in violence
bristling with anger
followed by Syrian girls
falling in boot sticking mud
and more zinging bullets
landing months later
in a gang riddled neighbourhood
new city - more guns
now a Ukrainian girl
she can speak three languages
but not English
she sits quietly in the back
sinking deeply into her desk
a sprinkling of Libyans, Lebanese,
West Africans, and Haitians...
for 75 minutes
we sit, laugh...even learn
binding us together bit by bit
in unconditional hospitality
