Migrant

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Migrant 

I am the lolly-pop lady with the fun hair,

I ironed the crispy-white shirt you wear.

I hand you a coffee with a sweet smile

And massage away your pain for a while.

I teach you my language and I have been learning yours,

I listen to your heart-beat and find the right cures.

I serve you some produce from a faraway land

And when you are dying I will hold your hand.

 

By Barbara Boyle

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