Unaccustomed
How unaccustomed am I
To the touch of my own hand
on my face
How unaccustomed
To droplets on my skin
And playfully drenched hair
As I dance in the rain
Unaccustomed
To the light of a candle
The shapes of clouds
And fullness in a starry sky
How unaccustomed
To the fragrant scent
of homemade cookies;
the smell of home
How unaccustomed am I
To the chime of a tinkling bell,
My mother's voice
And the sight of my own reflection
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