She's from Earth. From anyplace
on there where she breathes air,
eats food, drinks local water. Where
she's conversed, slept, danced,
followed customs, chafed against them,
shown respect. Where she's been helped;
and helped. She's from Earth. I think
all of us are. Maybe we should try
the habit of thinking we're from there.
Here. Because we are, and thinking so
might clear away some clutter,
smother some friction-fired heat.
She's from Earth. She likes it
here okay, when people find their
ways to get along. On Earth.
hans ostrom 2024
