Imagine this was a city set in stone,
this was the whole city on one long almost never ending road.
You'd approach it with an arch as if welcomes hugged your shoulders,
be greeted with majority Somali community drinking tea whilst watching tv.
You'd not need to walk long to find one of the local schools,
and a supermarket open all the time.
You'll find buildings that have been abandoned,
the community walking past.
The local aldi where we couldn’t find our bearings of home.
The almost looking ring road leads to corners of other cities you may cross if you want
but don't think you will.
We are separated by smells
grills and desserts
We know scent sticks on our clothes so we spray perfumes before leaving moms
This city made home,
because it welcomed my mom.
It taught her resilience,
It taught her to be strong
Muttering English words in an Arabic brain
Flustered by comments made
But this city is home
For as long as she resides
Finds comfort on the sofa on a Saturday at 7pm
Closes her eyes with 10 kids playing around her
Naps with noise
The hustle and bustle of my home.
Is my home.