I am new. A brown dog
waits for me in the middle
of a field and we begin
to waltz. I know this
is a dream, and because I
am an immigrant the field
feels portentous, strewn
with wildness and flowers.
Pearls shine in the dog’s mouth
and I can feel them close
to my neck, a row of cracked
pearls making up a choker.
I never wanted to leave
anyone behind. My life
changed, and it didn’t
change. At the end
of the dance we bow
to each other. I make
a fire now, make a hollow
where I’ll lay my bones
and they’ll feel
familiar, like bedding.