Rough Draft of an Ypsi poem

I wrote this poem at the laundry mat yesterday and it may not be done but I want to share.

At the Washtenaw Coin Laundry

I love this town and all its colors
so many shades of black and brown and tan
on skins and eyes and hair and hands
accents that come from     I know not where
languages lilting lyrical lullabies
myriad mantras
so many gods    all one
All One
cultures not clashing
not shocking me
only calling to my eyes and ears
with whispers of lands I'll never see
secrets of souls
swishes of fabric and whiffs of oil
spices speak sustenance
words awaken wonder
music exciting in mixed-up modes
drifts from windows where
kitchens sit with laden bread
always a table to be filled with old places
a landscape of different
aromas  abundant      call back in time
ancestral  answers     gifting with grace
a smile touching eyes
gives me welcome without words
human-ness beyond language
beyond any perception
of not-like-me