30/21: Old Ways in a New Home

There are traces of
my old home
sprinkled this city
that has
now become my
new home. 
I hear it
in the quirk
of language,
a softness of ‘a’
that gives
gentleness of ‘okay’
or  the
quickness of ‘
please’ at the till,
as if hesitating to
demand payment.
I sense  it in the
comforting  ways of
warmth, in the kindness
of ‘hello’ and the
ease of smile that
accompanies it. 
Some days I slip back
into old ways in this
new home of mine.
The lilt in my speech
returns and my vowels
soften, my hands reach
out to touch skin
and my speech is
punctuated by eyebrow
and hand  gesticulation,
just for full effect.
Here in my new 
home, I am accent,
eyebrow raise, warm
touch, easy smile.
I am rolling rr’s
and softer vowels.
I am loose laugh
and good hugs.
This new home
brings out the best
parts of what is still
of my old home.
They mix here
with the new
parts of
my becoming.
This new
form of
old and new
is coming
to fit me
better each
day.