Abdul of Senegal

Abdul of Senegal,
six years a Roman
opens the laundry at nine
or thereabouts.

i know this of the good hearted fellow:
he is sleek, tall, gentle,
speaks bits of English,
blurry Italian, his French is fine.

brought me a coffee today and a croissant,
why ? i offered to buy,
he insisted and got us one each.
i stayed, did my wash and recalled

two years ago Abdul said Paris ..
there he was ready to live.
today New York, says he.
yes, give him Gotham to gnaw.

he is thirty and is ready
to roll faster, deeper now
over into the turmoil of the world.
we do live our dreams, so it seems.

back now and on a computer,
he is searching, looking
i interrupted to ask if there were elephants
and are there lions in Senegal.

without hesitation at my banal query
“in parks there are”, he said. i nodded.
oh, the deviated realm in which we live.
as our world gets larger, the world gets smaller.