The new neighbour's son smiles
as he sees me and I say salam;
Somali or Sudanese, I've yet to ask.

He asks me struggling, "Are you Qur'an?"
Yes, I tell him, I am Qur'an—
I am all thirty chapters memorized.
(But am I even thirty verses embodied?)

I figure he figured from my form fitted
brown thawb, or throbe, as the mandem
from O block say, though this is H block.

I kick the soccer ball away from his
little brother's feet and feign to play
for a couple more fakes before I say
salam again and walk the way home.



© Walyullah