“People Like Us”
Chris Abani
1966- Nigerian

Standing at dawn in Grandmother's kitchen,
hot tea mists the window as it warms me.

Outside, soft pre-dawn light drizzles over hens
scratching for truth beneath the stunted orange tree.

The mauve dawn yawns in the slow approaching heat,
exhaling dark shadows. As I sip, Grandmother, arthritic,

chops onions and tomatoes ready for the searing of hot oil.
Eggs crack like answers to unasked questions

and I realize, this is all there is.
The stitching of life into transfigurations.