HERE NOT HOME

2019

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Home isn't here.

It used to stretch through the canyons of the golden hills.

Last I looked, those rivers ran a new course.

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I catch glimmers of it in the creases of my father's eyes,

But this couldn't be home forever.

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I thought I left it in a safe place, 

Wound it up tight with school paste and thread. 

 

But time ages thread,

And threads become loose, 

And loose threads unravel. 

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I trailed that thread across state lines,

Driving through the patchwork of what I knew and what I wanted to know. 

But home wasn’t within the miles I drove. 

 

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 I briefly found it in the smooth skin at the back of your knee,

while slipping into the sweet comfort of a familiar bed. 

But my dreams grew hazy and I lost sight of the edge.

 

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I’m still here. Not home. 

 But if they say home is made by love and not walls,

then my search has been made in vain.

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 For the walls of my heart are strewn across continents and time. 

I’ll never be home. 

Does this set me free?