Kaleidoscope by June Stepansky - HTML preview

 THE CASBAH

We round a corner,

and look down a web of dark alleys.

On either side old stone buildings stand

as they have for centuries.

Nothing has changed.

We are well-fed tourists

looking for the exotic.

We snap our pictures

of the dirty cobblestones,

and the dirty houses,

and the dirty children.

Our guide says,

“ Don’t touch the children.

they have lice.”

We move on.

 We have not touched the children,

 and they have not touched us.