In This Park

by Enas Suleiman

In this park.

The grass stands erect
in the presence of my bare feet
It doesn’t bow
Nor does it kneel
It just…stares
then sways in tickle attacks.
I submit.
I have no choice but to kneel to it
as I explode into successive giggles
that only children grasp.

In this park.

The sun’s rays
see through
my white summer dress
and land their glitter
on my brown skin.
I wish.
I wish people really knew the sun
and believed its rays
are a daily reminder
that all skin is beautiful.

In this park.

I wrap my headscarf:
Gusts of uncomfortable looks
Eyes are on-call for strange behaviour
I re-wrap my headscarf:
Gusts of intrigued looks
Mouths are on-call for questions
I smile.
The hills mounted on my cheeks
come from the same rocks
of the hills I mounted on theirs.

In this park.

Pages flip.
Bookmarks lost.
Kites fly.
Colourful skies.
Tricycles lag.
Bicycles speed.
Water fights.
Soaked t-shirts.
Tag me.
Tag you.
Children fall.
Cuts and bruises.
Lovers love.
Haters love.

In this park.