She slides next to me on the seafoam cushioned bench
Walnut hair dips beyond shoulders    loose wavy curls
Olive skin     earthy undertones as fertile as the ground 
Ella no habla  inglés
Her belly swells with life
I am afraid for her      for them  

Standing across from us
A Middle Eastern woman
Wears a cardamom colored hijab
My heart hums
Assalamu alaikum
I am afraid for her  

I arise from the bench
As the Spanish speaking pharmacist
Bridges the gap for the señorita    
Whose voice is as soft as a baby’s blanket
 
I glance at my heavily melanated skin     blackberry brambles
My eyes dart across the hallway
Focusing on the Muslim woman
Before resting upon the young Latina girl
Sorrowfully realizing this apothecary
Carries no medicine
That will heal our societal ills
I am afraid for us